Harry of Crete
by The Unbelievable
Summary: The story of Theseus and the Minotaur is a much different story than the myth says. And Harry has a much different life growing up when he suddenly finds himself in Crete under the care of the Minotaur's descendants. THIS IS YAOI AND MPREG. CREATURE FIC, BUT NOT CREATURE HARRY. MALE OC X HARRY AND SOME CHARACTER BASHING. M FOR CERTAIN REASONS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
1. Ambrus And Isandro 1

**I am human like everyone else! So for the sake of explaining where this one started to come from, I will partially explain!**

 **Going through a creature phase, mainly half-human creatures like centaur, minotaur, things like that. Read a comic online about Theseus and the Minotaur, can't remember the site name, it was Spanish but the comic was in English.**

 **Anyway, long story short, Theseus is constantly being taken by the Minotaur. A month later, Minos basically tells him that Minotaur chose him as its bride (right after yet another round with Minotaur (Asterios was his name in comic but have read elsewhere that it is Asterion)). Three months later, Theseus is basically being teased by Minos about how his body is changing, stomach swelling and even his nipples were a bit larger. Saying he was like a woman, all while the Minotaur is screwing Theseus… again! Anyway, during that round of sex, Minotaur pinches nipples, which squirt out milk. So of course, Theseus is freaking out and Minos comes to this conclusion: Theseus is pregnant. You read right, folks! So Minos explains how Asterios is born from his wife's affair with a bull and how the Minotaur is a creature from heaven, yadda-yadda-yadda. Shut him up, already! So to make things more humiliating for Theseus, Minos sets up a platform and has a festival while Theseus is giving birth. In front of everyone. Comic ends there.**

 **I am not ashamed of where I trend online.**

 **But my mind is kind of going through ideas and adding more on. Because seriously, the myth is that Theseus kills the Minotaur, and this comic actually gives me fun ideas as to go about doing that. I just need to torture Theseus some more. So this chapter and the next couple will be leading on from there (sort of) and I will eventually bring in Harry Potter. Probably chapter 3 or 4. Depends on how much I write each chapter. There will be Harry Potter.**

 **Also, I know in the story, the ship sailed back with black sails, thus Aegeus jumped off a cliff and died because Theseus was a forgetful idiot and forgot to sail with white sails to say he was alive and not dead. But for the sake of this story, Aegeus is not dead.**

 **And yes, folks, this will be a Harry Potter Crossover because I cross Harry Potter with everything I can think of.**

 **Disclaimer: Do not own the comic mentioned above, Harry Potter, or any Greek Mythology.**

 **ASSUME THESEUS DOES MAKE THE BOYS WEAR SOMETHING! A LOINCLOTH OR SOME KIND OF ARMOR SO THEY ARE NOT TOTALLY NAKED!**

 **Here the Chapter Starts**

Dark eyes stared out to the open blue sea, the wind dancing through loose locks and colliding with the sails to push the ship faster. At his feet sat a small being, a blanket being used as a cloak to cover it. A normal sized cloak covered the man's frame, to hide both his identity and the swell of his stomach.

He spent nearly a year and a half in the Labyrinth before finally killing the monster within it. A year and a half of being the creature's whore. By the gods, he really felt like one most of the time. But any struggle was useless, the creature would get its way, so he submitted and let it do whatever it wanted, hoping it would finish soon. The first result of the 'breeding', as King Minos referred to it as, sat at his feet, looking just like the monster that would rape him every few hours. The second was still inside of him. But he can't kill either of them. He couldn't.

After the birth of the first, due to the Minotaur's raging at him being taken away, he was put right back into that pit he spent the entire first pregnancy in. It wasn't that there were no openings that would allow him to leave that pit, he was generally just too sore and tired to move. Once he was put back in the pit, the newborn with him because it needed him to survive long enough to be a 'guardian' of Minos's city, the Minotaur wasn't risking him being taken away again. So it grabbed both him and babe and took them into the Labyrinth.

Theseus put it off as a trick of his mind, but he could have sworn that Minos was pouting when the Minotaur took them away. The king did take great pleasure in mocking and humiliating him. All the turns the beast took were difficult to keep up with, his tired body giving out every few seconds before he would force himself back awake to keep track of the layout. It finally reached a room, dropping him on a pile of old clothing from previous sacrifices. That became his bed that he shared with the newborn minotaur child.

Slight guilt did nudge at him. He was allowed rest for a month before the creature started breeding him again. During that rest, at first, he was not allowed to leave the room. The Minotaur made sure of that, catching him when he tried to sneak out. Though it was more animal than man, it seemed to know that the baby needed him for survival and did not allow him to leave, even waking if Theseus tried leaving while it slept. During that month of rest, though, it was almost like he was watching a different creature.

It would randomly have the newborn in its hands, looking at the babe like it didn't know what to think. It knew that it sired the smaller creature, it could smell and see that since the baby is a minotaur as well. When it started fussing, the Minotaur would perk its ears up in surprise, unsure as to what it was supposed to do. Sometimes, Theseus would wake up and the creature would be nudging the babe with its snout as if it was making sure it was still alive, not stopping until a chubby fist flew through the air and hit it on the nose. Then it would stop only to come back once the baby was in a deep enough sleep that it didn't move. It eventually got to the point where, if he caught the beast doing that, he shoved it away and told it to let the baby sleep.

He was eventually allowed to leave the room, the Minotaur watching him closely. He often got lost in the complicated maze, grudgedly complimenting the creator on a job well done, before being found by the Minotaur and carried back to the room over its shoulder. Each time, he managed to get further and further a little at a time. Until he realized why the Minotaur kept appearing at random times and taking him back. It wasn't because it didn't like him wandering too far away. The baby needed feeding. So he started taking his tiny creature son with him. The less reasons the Minotaur had to hunt him down and drag him back to his starting point, the better chance he had of escaping or finding something to kill the beast with.

He did find a dagger on one trip, but it was too dull to penetrate the creature's skin. It wouldn't even break his own. But he was able to leave marks on the walls with it. At each corner he rounded, he left a mark. If that route proved to be a dead end, he went back to a fork and used a different mark after scratching out the old one. He hid it in the cloth he used to wrap the babe.

Again, the Minotaur randomly appeared, seemingly frustrated at have to look for him for so long, and led him back to the room. If he tried to leave, the beast knew it no matter how quiet Theseus tried to be. It would grab him by his arm and start dragging him, still mindful of the babe that he had to support with only one arm.

Then the month was up and he was being bred again. He was thankful that it was not as often as before since the creature realized that he still had the babe the care for, which would start fussing for one reason or another. Still, even with the interruptions, he knew it was only a matter of time before another was planted inside of him. It did not take long. Within a few months, his belly was swelling again. The babe grew quieter, sleeping more and acting up less, giving the beast more time to breed him. He wasn't able to venture the Labyrinth as much as before, nor go as far as he would want. He was constantly found, sometimes claimed right where he was located before being taken back to the room.

However, due to leaving scratches in the walls, the dagger sharpened to the point where he accidentally cut the child's leg when he quickly hid the blade in the cloth. At least he stopped the crying and bleeding before the Minotaur could smell anything wrong. That night, after gathering enough strength while the creature slumbered, he quietly crawled over to it before plunging the dagger into the beast's throat. It woke quickly, jerking away fast while Theseus still held the hilt, causing the dagger to slice through the meaty throat, cutting open more veins. The Minotaur bled out on the floor, dead within moments.

For a while, he wasn't sure how long, he stayed in that room. Caring for the child seemed automatic, his thoughts not in his actions. He contemplated killing the babe as well, even held the dagger above its heart. But he couldn't. His eyes watered as the babe would reach for the pointed tip that could easily grant it death. The coos curious, head tilting and ears flopping with each movement of its head. The dagger dropped as he cried, scooping the child up in his arms and holding it close. He didn't want it, but he couldn't rid himself of it. He couldn't kill it nor bear abandoning it. He tried that as well. He only made it five corners away before sprinting back to find it crying loudly at being left and ignored.

So covering it with the cloth to hide its features as well as himself with the clothes that were his bed, he blindly made his way from the tunnels of the maze and back into the pit where everything started. The moon was high in the sky, half hidden in shadow. By the time he managed to climb out of the pit, the moon was halfway to setting.

A clanging noise broke Theseus from his memories, making him look down to see a small ball of metal roll from his child. The toddler snorted in frustration, staggering to his hoofed feet to go after it. Theseus reached down and gently grasp the shoulder. "Leave it, Ambrus," he gently told his son. Large brown eyes blinked up at him, then went back to the ball. He let out a soft whimper. A wave hit the ship, tilting it enough to encourage the ball to roll back. With a happy cry, Ambrus grasped the ball before it rolled between his hooves. Ambrus dropped back down onto his bottom, holding the ball up the air before dropping it between his legs and repeating.

Ambrus. To be immortal. Theseus found it suiting. No matter what he tried to do to be rid of him, he kept going back. Keeping the child alive. He even tried starving the child to death at first, but the cries of hunger tore his heart to shreds and he gave in. Not to mention the Minotaur watching him, trying to find out why he wasn't doing anything and wouldn't leave him alone until he did.

He thought back to how long it had been since he left the Labyrinth. How long since he found the first sign of swelling on his abdomen. How much longer this one will wait until it decided it wanted out as well. Two more months. He can't go home yet. He refuses to go home carrying the monster's child. The mere shame of his situation could kill both him and his father.

No. He had to go elsewhere first. He had to birth this child and come up with some story as to why he was coming home with two minotaur babies, one of them being nursed from his own breast.

"Bah!" Ambrus called out, looking up at Theseus while grabbing his cloak to help him stand back up. The metal ball was between his hooves.

A small smirk came to his lips as he gently rubbed Ambrus's head, feeling the small nubs that would grow to be horns. Ambrus bounced his knees before another wave made him lose his balance and fall back onto the deck. He will think of something. He has two months, after all.

 **Change Here**

It was quiet in the cave he hid in. Ambrus stayed near the fire, keeping warm through the cold night. Theseus leaned against a wall, the pain of his contractions becoming too much for him to keep going. His hands gripped the stone as his teeth dug into his lips to keep his yells in. Blood poured into his mouth and dribbled down his chin. Ambrus knew something was happening, but could do nothing more than crawl over and lean on Theseus's stomach.

Finally he felt the small body leave his, the floor of the cave went with fluids. Ambrus squealed as he fell to the floor. His brown eyes spotted a wet bundle of something squirming. Theseus was panting heavily, his head leaned back to the cavern walls as he caught his breath. He felt Ambrus crawl under his bent leg before looking down to the newborn. A minotaur, just like Ambrus and their sire. But unlike those two, this one had a darker coat. Perhaps it was the fluids that soaked the hair making it look darker, but the hair around the neck and chest was definitely darker.

Wide blue eyes slowly blinked open as the mouth opened and closed, slight sounds emitting from it. Ambrus looked at the tiny creature, their eyes locking on one another. The babe hiccuped a cough, spitting fluid from its mouth that nearly hit Ambrus if he didn't jump away in surprise at the sound.

With a weary sigh, Theseus reached down and scooped the baby up, using a part of his cloak that he tore off beforehand to clean away the juices covering it. Ambrus wiggled backwards from under his leg before crawling back to Theseus's side and pulling himself up on the man's arm.

"Meet your little brother, Ambrus," he said softly, lowering his arm enough for his oldest to take a closer look. Ambrus leaned in far enough that their noses touched. "Isandro."

 **Change Here**

He waited four months before returning home. Isandro still had to be carried, of course, but Ambrus was starting to walk around on his own. Not very fast, but not slow either. Perhaps being minotaur helped them develop a little faster. He had bought a basket to hide them in and boarded a ship, praying to any god he could that the two would stay quiet. Just in case, though, he stayed in his cabin with them. Ambrus seemed to enjoy being in the large basket. Isandro was just quietly laying there, watching his older brother's antics with wide, focused eyes.

It took over a week for the ship to arrive at Athens. He got the attention of his sons and held his finger to his lips, shushing them. Though babes and thus should not understand what he was trying to tell them, he closed the lid. Making sure it was secure, he lifted the basket and pulled the straps over his shoulder.

With the cloak still covering him, he left the docked ship. No one paid him mind and he walked through the city in peace. The two tiny minotaurs moved around in the basket often, but he kept his grip and hoped that no one heard their sounds. Most of the citizens probably passed the sounds off as other children or animals.

He finally made it to the palace, removing his hood to reveal his face to the guards. "Inform my father that I am home," he ordered them.

"Right away, sire!" one bowed to him before running off.

Looking to the other guard, he said, "I will await him in my room." With another bow, the second guard took off as well to pass the message since the first was too eager to inform the king of the good news to receive much more information.

The basket nearly slipped from his grasp as Ambrus squealed, falling over or something that put too much weight down too suddenly. He moved quickly to get to his room without drawing any suspicion. With a sigh of relief, he made it before his father arrived. Opening the door and slipping inside, he went over to the bed he had not slept in for a little over two years, placing the basket down on it. He opened the lid then looked down inside. Isandro was still on this back, but Ambrus was laying on his legs, keeping them still.

"You two nearly made me drop you," he informed them.

Instead of looking shamed, they both smiled up at him the best they could with their bull mouths. Ambrus pulled himself up to his feet before reaching up to Theseus to be picked up. Isandro merely wiggled on his back, legs kicking and arms waving.

"Theseus!" someone exclaimed as the doors flew open.

Jumping in surprise, Theseus spun around in time to catch his father in a relieved hug. "Father," he greeted.

"I thought I lost you, my son," Aegeus told him, patting his shoulders as he pulled away. "I never received word and the men who went with you knew nothing. With no news, I feared the worst."

Little did his father know, Theseus thought to himself. While to Aegeus, the worst was losing his son, Theseus would have much rather been eaten by the Minotaur than what he truly suffered through. "I am alive, Father," he pointed out cheerfully. "And I come with an interesting package."

"How so?" Aegeus asked him, crossing his arms.

Ambrus decided he was ignored long enough and shrieked. Both Aegeus and Theseus were startled by the sound, but unlike his son, Aegeus did not know who or what made it. Gently placing a hand on Theseus's arm, he moved his son to the side, spotting the basket on the bed and the bouncing minotaur toddler trying to climb out but kept falling back in.

"Theseus," his father spoke slowly, unsure if he was truly seeing what he is seeing. "Wha…what is that?"

"That, father, is a baby minotaur," Theseus told him. "Two, actually."

"Two? Baby minotaurs?" Aegeus repeated in shock. "What are you doing with two baby minotaurs? Where did you even find them? Why did you bring them here?"

Theseus sent a brief prayer to the gods, noting that he has been doing that a lot these past two years, that his father would believe his tale. "Apparently, some of the sacrifices that Minos demanded from us were still alive in the Labyrinth," he started. "The Minotaur was using the women to breed. Unfortunately, the mothers did not survive. This one," he placed a hand on Ambrus's head, "is the older child. I have been calling him Ambrus due to his inability to pass away. His mother died in labor and he has still survived to this age of, I believe, a year. The other is only a few months old. Isandro, his mother named him before passing. When I killed the Minotaur, she was in the early stages of pregnancy and did not wish to return to Athens while carrying the child. So I looked over her until she gave birth."

"They should have been killed, not brought here," Aegeus snapped at him.

"I thought the same until I was told of what Minos planned to do with them," Theseus went on. "He planned on turning them into guardians of Crete, should they survive to adulthood."

"You mean he planned on using them to force us into giving more sacrifices!" the king raged, stepped away from the basket.

"He is now unable to," Theseus told him firmly. "I kept these children-"

"Those are not children, Theseus! They are beasts! And they will always be beasts!"

"Beasts can be trained!" Theseus argued with him. "Minos wanted them as guardians of Crete, but I took them. We can train them to be guardians of Athens instead. They can guard Athena's favored city instead of Crete, which no longer holds any favor of the gods."

"And the moment they turn on us?" Aegeus pressed. "Surely they will. The Minotaur had a craving for human flesh, as I understand it."

"Not them," he pointed out. "Isandro has been doing well on goat milk. And Ambrus cannot eat meat yet. Even if he does in later years, we can train him from human flesh."

Aegeus shook his head. "Theseus, I understand your reasoning," he stated, holding a hand up when his son was about to speak. "However, these creatures are not human. They cannot be trusted. Even if we could train them, as soon as we let our guard down, they can strike and kill us all. I will not risk it."

"They are just babes, Father!" the younger man pleaded. "You cannot condone the murder of two children who cannot even speak! They have done no wrong!"

"Besides being born!" the king snapped. "Those creatures should not have even breathed. That is the end of it, Theseus."

"No, it is not!" his son shouted. He inhaled deeply. "Father, this is Athens. The city named after Athena, favored by the gods. Many invade our borders, declaring war for our land and murdering our people. If we can raise these two, train them to defend our city, then we are not throwing away the lives of our people."

"Our people die proud deaths to defend their home."

"While their widows weep and children grow without a father to teach them anything," he went on. "A boy of six would have to become the man of the house before he even understands what it means. The widow struggles to provide for her children or herself and loses her home. As I said, we can prevent all of that from happening just by keeping these two. By raising them to love this city as much as the people do, to want to defend it and fight to the death if need be to keep it out of the hands of our enemies."

For a moment, Aegeus was silent. Then he sighed loudly, his shoulders dropping as he shook his head. "This will require thought," he told him. "We will also need to speak with the Court. If it is voted that these two die rather than defend, then they will die and you will not be able to talk anyone out of it."

"I understand, Father," Theseus accepted with a bow of his head.

"Now, get some rest, my son," the king wearily told him. "You have had a long journey. I will send in the guards to take these beasts away."

"I would rather they stayed with me, Father," he stated just as the basket tipped over and Ambrus rolled out onto the bed. "They're calmer and I believe that the decision of execution or no will be taken out of our hands."

"Very well," the king agreed, tired of arguing with his son. He wondered what had turn his son into the man before him, who would rather defend monsters than kill them, despite their age. With another nod, he bid his son good night then left.

Theseus released a heavy sigh of relief as he turned back to the bed where Ambrus was trying to get his baby brother out of the basket and onto the covers. "Ambrus, stop that," he ordered, worried he would hurt the younger.

The older child let go of his brother's kicking legs before Theseus reached into the basket and gently lifted Isandro from the basket before placing him in the middle of the bed. Ambrus went back to the basket, rolling it slightly. He pushed it a little harder, causing it to fall from the bed.

The next week, after much debate and Theseus speaking on behalf of the two children, it was decided. The sons of the Minotaur will be defenders of Athens.

 **Change Here**

"Isandro tripped," Ambrus said at his parent's inquiring stare.

"On your dagger?" Theseus asked them, his foot tapping.

"I dropped it," the older minotaur supplied.

Isandro had come running into Theseus's study, blood pouring from his shoulder and Ambrus's dagger coated with it. While most of Athens was not accepting of the two young minotaurs, Theseus was able to find a doctor that would treat them despite their appearance. So as soon as Ambrus came running into the room after his brother, Theseus sent Isandro to that doctor and started questioning his older son.

"You dropped it point up?"

"It landed between a couple of stones, which Isandro tripped over and he landed on it."

"Then it would have stabbed his leg, not his shoulder." Theseus knelt down, trying to make eye contact.

Ambrus lowered his head brown eyes darting all over the room except at Theseus. Theseus's started tapping his finger on his shoulder. Slowly, the young minotaur looked up at the recently crowned King of Athens. "I didn't mean to hurt him!" he cried out. "I was just playing with the dagger and it slipped from my hand! I didn't know Isandro was there! I swear!" He started taking heavy breaths, water gathering at the corners of his eyes. "He's going to be okay, right?"

"I would assume so," Theseus reassured his older child, wrapping his arms around the shaking form. "The wound did not look deep. He was moving his arm well enough. But you have learned a lesson today, right, Ambrus?"

The child nodded. "Don't play with weapons," he answered. "They're not toys."

"Exactly," the man said with a nod of his head. "At least not without an adult around. You cannot be a guardian of Athens if your weapon slips from your hand."

Ambrus nodded in understanding. His brows furrowed slightly before looking into Theseus's eyes. "Father, why do we have to be guardians?" he asked.

The man sighed heavily, hand reaching out to rub between the small horns protruding from the child's head. "It is what the Court and my father decided on," he told him. "You two know you're different. The people fear different. The only way for you two to live is to be guardians of Athens. Otherwise they would have killed you the day I brought you home."

"Oh," Ambrus sighed dejectedly. "Is that why none of the other children play with us and pick on us, calling us names?"

"I'm afraid so."

"But why are we different?"

Theseus shook his head. "When you are older, maybe I will tell you one day."

 **Change Here**

"So," Ambrus started, dark eyes staring at the hunched form of his younger, leaner brother.

"Something wrong, brother?" Isandro asked, looking up from his large axe.

"Nervous?" the elder minotaur responded, testing the weight of his large maul. "First major fight."

Isandro dropped his gaze to his weapon, running the whetstone over the edge to sharpen it a little more. "I know," he said. "To be honest, I'm terrified. We have fought with the other warriors, but these are people who have never seen us. We may end up having to kill them simply because they will be trying to kill us."

"Don't worry so much," Ambrus brushed off, placing the leather-covered shaft of his maul over his broad shoulder. The maul was large and thick, nearly fifty pounds of stone made into a crushing weapon that he knew would not let him down. Though he had to admit, he was scared as well. Even their father came down to check on them, worried about their first fight and how they would handle it. "We're the city's guardians. We're going to have to do this."

Isandro chuckled. "You have no fear?" he asked, placing the whetstone back on the shelf it resided on.

"Not enough to worry you, little brother," the older laughed. His ears twitched, faintly catching the sound of their father announcing his challenge. It wasn't unusual for kings to ask for such a fight, even if one brings an army. The strongest warriors fight against each other. Whichever warrior wins, the other side is to leave. No more bloodshed than necessary. "Almost time."

The younger minotaur rose to his feet, hands gripping the shaft of his great axe tightly. The blade itself was larger than his own head, the patterns on the blade's sides intricate with a bull's head in the center of them. "No matter what comes, Ambrus," he started. "I will have your back."

A pleased yet amused rumbled sounded from the broad chest of his brother. "And I will have yours, Isandro," he promised.

They caught the voice of the enemy leader, demanding Theseus send out his warriors, accusing him of being afraid. "Let's prove him wrong, brother."

The gate opened, showing them the arena with fifteen soldiers armed with shields and swords. Armor covering their chests, strips of metal and fabric reaching from waist to knees, metal boots on their feet, and helmets hiding their heads. Seeing the brothers, the soldiers faltered, some stepping back in fear.

"Let's."

The signal was given. They charged.

 **Change Here**

The king watched in amusement, drinking the sweet wine from his goblet as Ambrus recalled the last fight, with Isandro correcting him many times. Due to the various fights the two had gone through, more and more of Athens' people were coming to accept the two. Their fear of them lessening and even greeting them with open arms. He could tell they were enjoying the attention, having grown to adulthood with glares and whispered venom being thrown at them from nearly every direction but his own.

Now at the age of twenty-two, men were their companions, challenging them to friendly fights. Women threw themselves upon them, begging for tales of their battles. He's fairly certain some visit his older son at night.

"That's not what happened!" Isandro exclaimed with a laugh.

"No, I am sure it is!" Ambrus argued with him.

"You did not crush three men in a row!"

"You were not watching well enough then, my brother," the elder laughed before chugging down some of his ale. As soon as it left his grinning lips, he leaned forward towards his sibling. "Remember those men hitting the walls?"

"Yes," the younger replied slowly. "I did see that. But that is throwing, not crushing."

Ambrus pouted. "Ruin a good story with technicalities," he grumbled, leaning back into his chair as a woman held his arm.

Theseus rolled his eyes in exasperation. Not long ago, these women recoiled if they even thought the brothers were looking at them. Now they are draping all over his sons, begging for the attention of the warriors. Strange, though, that while some vied for Isandro's attention, he basically ignored them, even the one that was close enough to him that his shoulder was between her breasts.

"What about you, Isandro?" the woman questioned, her fingers deftly wrapping around one of his horns.

He shook his head, dislodging her hand from the horn. "I don't throw or crush," he commented. "I cleave."

"Crushing is more fun, though, brother," Ambrus pointed out.

"Not this again, Ambrus," Isandro laughed. "We both know the axe is better."

"No, no, no," the older shot back. "Maul hits more."

"Only because you're running all over the battlefield, brother, hitting as many men as you can before they can come running up to me."

"Not my fault you're slow, little brother!"

Though sometimes, Theseus did wish they were silent like their sire. He often wondered how it was possible these two could talk but the Minotaur of Crete never uttered a word. Then he came to the conclusion that it was isolated and did not learn any words from anyone. These two have their whole life and simply picked up on it as easily as a human child.

"I am not slow, Ambrus. I simply wait for them to come to me. Let them choose whether they wish to live or die."

"They always have that choice, Isandro. They make it when they enter our arena." He snorted in amusement. "I believe you should have been named Garen."

"Ha! And you?"

Ambrus laughed loudly, raising his cup high in the air. "My name should have been Nicanor! For I am victory in the flesh!"

Under the table, Isandro kicked out to Ambrus's legs, pushing his chair back hard enough to knock his brother onto his back. The women squeaked in surprise, jumping away as he fell. "Indeed, my victory-in-the-flesh brother."

The older got to his feet, grinning wildly at his younger brother, who lifted his chin up defiantly. "You are asking for it, Isandro."

Knowing what was to come, Theseus called out, "That is enough, Ambrus, Isandro." He had broken up fights between the two more often than not their whole lives. He knew exactly where this was going to trend. And the two could get very rambunctious with their brawling.

"Yes, sire," they replied with nods of their heads.

Still, after two decades, no one knew these two are his sons. And despite whatever he tells them when asked why no one was to know, it was simply because he did not want it to be knowledge to anyone but them. At the least, they respect whatever reasoning he tells them and keeps it between the three of them.

"You're paying for that later," Ambrus warned his brother.

Isandro only laughed with a wave of his hand, luring his brother into laughing as well.

 **Change Here**

Isandro laid on his large bed, pillow attempting to consume his face with its softness, his arms wrapped around the large pillow to assist in the attempted suffocation. A groan escaped him as firm fingers rubbed tight knots out of the muscles of his shoulders.

"These are tight this time," a soft voice told him, low in both volume and pitch. "Are you harmed?"

"No," he replied groggily. "Ambrus kept them away from me well enough." His dark blue eyes slowly opened, blinking a couple times to adjust to the light, before he tilted his head enough to look at the one rubbing him.

A young man three years his junior, his frame thin and lean, almost womanly if he were not lacking plump breasts and wide hips. His blonde hair was always cut short, the locks wild and free. Bright blue eyes were focused on the nimble hands on Isandro's back. Soft pink lips curled into a small smile.

This young man was a present from a defeated enemy, a gift to Theseus originally, but in the end, was given to Isandro. He could have easily gone to Ambrus, but his older brother preferred to be surrounded by women. The young man was a slave from a distant land, but Isandro never treated him as such.

"Cyrus, you don't have to do that," the minotaur pointed out.

"I want to," Cyrus replied, using his thumbs to dig into the muscles at the back of Isandro's neck. "You're always tense."

"Not with you around," he chuckled before reaching back and wrapping his arm around the smaller man's waist, pulling him down onto the bed. Cyrus chuckled lightly as Isandro nuzzled his snout into the man's neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. "Never with you," he said lowly, his chest rumbling as he spoke.

Cyrus hummed gently, tilting his head back onto the large shoulder as the strong hand teased it way down to between his legs. "I'm glad," he admitted as his legs spread. "I would hate for you to not be able to relax in your own room."

Isandro chuckled lowly, his tongue leaving a trail of saliva on the smaller man's shoulder and neck while his hand cupped the hardening length. "Hmm, yes, that would be very unfortunate."

No, Cyrus was no slave to him. He was no prisoner. Isandro preferred it if Cyrus stayed in the room, safe. But he knew that the man would be miserable locked away. So Cyrus did things with the guise of work for the younger minotaur. A slave? Never. But Cyrus is his and his alone. No one was allowed to touch him.

His brother would often ask him why he did not find any of the women attractive enough to bed. Isandro simply laughed off the question or changed the subject, turning the focus back to Ambrus. No one, not even their father, knew how much Isandro cares for Cyrus.

 **Change Here (no yaoi sex for you!)**

While Athens is more accepting of them, the brothers tended not to leave the palace often. But there was one place Ambrus did enjoy going to. Not for any particular reason other than a very tempting view. Most would think it odd that a beast such as him would dare to enter a temple, but he did. For one reason. The priestess.

She was new, supposedly very devout to the gods. Especially the goddess of love, Aphrodite. He could easily believe it. Supposedly, Aphrodite was beautiful and all who saw her fell in love with her. For all he knew, this young woman is Aphrodite in the flesh.

Her skin a gently porcelain, lips pink and full. Her midnight hair was braided with some curly locks framing her heart-shaped face. And her figure was much desired by him. Her breasts were firm and plump, practically begging him to grab and play with them. Her hips were not too wide compared to her thin waist, but just enough meat on them for him to grab hold of. Her legs were long, her thighs perfect. Arms thin in the way that reminded him of a fragile doll. The outfit she wore left little to his imagination. Most of it was see through, but white bands covered her breasts from his view as well as a white skirt that hugged her waist and cascaded down to her petite feet, barely hiding the anklets from view. Golden bands dangled around her slim wrists, thicker bands clutching her upper arms.

Oh yes, she was very beautiful. And he wanted her. Several of the young women back at the palace has satisfied his needs as well as their own curiosity. Some of them, repeatedly. But none have ever caught his attention. At least not for very long after bedding them.

"You are here often," she spoke, her voice like chimes caught in a gentle breeze.

"So it seems," he replied, turning his head away but keeping his gaze on her.

She rose from her kneel to her feet fluidly, her turn graceful as her hazel eyes looked over his form. He fought down the urge to pin her to the floor, tear her clothes off, spread her legs as wide as possible, and sheathe himself inside of her. But that urge was still there, a powerful urge that seemed more in tune with his beast half.

"May I ask why?" her soft voice drifted to his perked ears.

"You may, but forgive me if I do not answer." He shifted on his hooves, but she did not move.

"You are always staring at me," she pointed out.

"I'm curious about you," he replied.

"Such as?"

"Such as why such a beautiful woman is wasting her life away in a temple," he complimented.

"I have always been in temples," she answered him. "My whole life, I have prayed to the gods and shared the wisdom that they wish for me to share."

He snorted, causing her to blink in surprise. "You speak for the gods? Forgive me for doubting, but I understand they have not much to say."

"The gods are the reason why you are here," she informed him. "Are they not?"

His brow rose. "Explain."

"You were fathered by the Minotaur of Crete, were you not?" she asked him. He nodded. Not knowing much of their sire, he did know that much. Theseus had to tell them about the Minotaur named Asterios when asked why they look the way they do. "He was conceived when Minos angered Poseidon by refusing to sacrifice the Cretan Bull. With Aphrodite's help, they cursed Minos's queen to fall in love with the bull. She laid with the bull and birthed the Minotaur. And he, in turn, sired you. Were it not for the gods, you would not be standing here before me."

Another snort slipped out as he rolled his eyes. He knew all that. While he wasn't sure whether or not the gods had any involvement, he did know the history of his sire's conception. It was their own that confused him. "I am aware of such," he told her. "But they act through actions, not through words. When has a god ever said anything to us mere mortals here?" He stepped into the temple, approaching the seemingly fearless woman, but did take note of the tenseness of her arms and legs. "Tell me something else."

"What is it you wish to know?" she asked.

"Your name," he said. "I am Ambrus. You?"

For a moment, she was silent. Her limbs were still tense, ready to run if felt threatened enough. "Callidora," she gave. "I am called Callidora."

He nodded. "It suits you," he complimented before leaning down so he was not towering over her. From his angle, he could see the cleavage of her breasts that the band did not cover. "And you follow Aphrodite most of all?"

"I ask her forgiveness," she said.

"Forgiveness?" He was shocked. Why would this creature of sheer beauty ask for forgiveness from the goddess of love? Perhaps for making her jealous by luring in men as though they were moths to the flame.

"You think my beauty a gift, as did my parents," she told him firmly. "But it is a curse. I stay in the temples because of the men. Too many chased me simply because they believe me beautiful. I do not know what I did to anger Aphrodite to curse me with this beauty, but I ask for forgiveness every day. Perhaps one day she will forgive me."

"Your beauty is no curse," he told her. "Obviously the men who chased you only did so because they wish to brag they bedded one as beautiful as you. Because they know that any other way of trying to woo you, they would fail. They cannot give you the proper pleasures of a man, either. And while they know that, they still gave chase."

"It is still a curse," she whispered, her shoulders shaking slightly. "Even now, someone wishes to chase me because he finds me beautiful."

Ambrus tilted his head. "I apologize if I offend," he offered. "It is not often a woman of such beauty graces my sight. I intend to drink in every second I can."

"Do you not have women at the palace clawing at each other over a beast such as yourself?" Callidora asked his haughtily. "I can only think of one reason as to why they would. No sane woman would want to bed an animal, less they already be cursed like your grandmother."

He wanted to snarl at the insult, but could only chuckle in amusement. "Say what you will," he told her lowly, his mouth by her ears as his hand lightly traced up her side until coming to her breast. "But remember, you already say you are cursed." She gasped as he groped her breast, thick fingers sliding over her perked nipple. "I suppose you are, then. Following your logic, after all, if you are aroused by my mere touch, then perhaps you are cursed enough to bed an animal. If you will allow it, perhaps I can show you why the women at the palace claw at each other for the chance to warm my bed."

His other hand groped her round buttocks as his tongue trailed from her collar to the top of her ear, teeth gently nibbling at the skin. The hand on her breast let go before reaching up enough to pull the top down for him to reach under the clothing and pull the plump mound from its confines. Fingertips pinched the exposed nipple before he lowered his head to suckle on the mound.

She bit her lip as a moan escaped her, one of her hands grasping the thick hair of his chest while the other grabbed one of his horns. Only instead of pushing him away, she pulled his head closer to her body, allowing his mouth to engulf the breast. "Perhaps I am," she shakily said as his tongue swirled around the flesh. "Not here. My room is upstairs."

 **Change Here (no sex for you!)**

"You look very pleased with yourself," Theseus pointed out to his eldest. "What have you been up to, Ambrus?"

"Nothing much," he replied with a shrug of his broad shoulder. "Isandro looks pleased as well. Why pick on me, father?"

"Because he does not look smug about it," the king noted, looking over to the darker-coated minotaur laying on the furniture.

"Why do you look so pleased anyway, brother?" Ambrus started on the younger minotaur.

"I know something you do not know," Isandro replied. "Such as father taking a wife. Finally."

Ambrus blinked in surprise, turning to his father in confusion. Theseus was staring at the young minotaur in exasperated annoyance. Apparently, he wanted to inform them on his own. "A wife?" he asked in surprise.

"I will need one sooner or later," Theseus told him. "I will need an heir as well."

"We're your first born sons," the older pointed out, anger lightly coloring the tone. "One of us can be your heir!"

"The people of Athens will not accept a minotaur as their king," the king pointed out to him. "Remember, as far as Athens knows, you two are its guardians. You are children I rescued from the Labyrinth."

"Why?!" Ambrus nearly roared.

"Brother, please," Isandro tried to placate his brother, but was cut off.

"You be silent!" He turned back to their parent. "Why, father? Why can the people not know you carried and birthed us?! Why can they not know that we are your sons?!"

Theseus didn't say anything, leaving his older son to stew in his rage. He knew it was only a matter of time. Ambrus was always the most annoyed by the fact that their familial relation be kept secret. Isandro seemed to understand, or at least cared less than his brother.

"Because we were not meant to be born," Isandro said quietly. Two pairs of eyes looked at him, one in shocked pain and the other in surprised rage. "Were we, father?"

Theseus sighed, running his hand through his hair. For a moment, he debated telling them the truth. But all that would do is feed the growing fire in Ambrus. He did plan on telling them, but in the end, the plan was all but forgotten. He could not bring himself to do it.

"Answer him," Ambrus snarled.

Pained eyes looked up at his eldest. "No," he finally said. "You were not." Ambrus looked shocked, pain etching across his face. Isandro only looked as though it was a suspicion he had for a long time being confirmed, but even he was hurt. "I went to Crete to slay the Minotaur. To stop sending our young men and women to be sacrificed to it. To kill Minos as well. He opened a trapdoor under my feet and I fell into a pit where the Minotaur was waiting. Instead of being kill and eaten as all the others had been…" He inhaled deeply, uncovering memories long since buried.

"Instead, it raped me. Every single day I was in there. I did not even know I was carrying you, Ambrus, despite my stomach being swollen. Minos was the one who announced that discovery. And I was set up on a platform, giving birth to you in front of his entire city. Minos was going to make you, your brother, and any other child I birthed into Guardians of Crete. The Minotaur let me rest for a month after you were born. I explored the Labyrinth, taking you with me so I would not be dragged back to the room it kept me in. I found a dagger, too dull to do much besides mark the wall. That wall marking eventually did sharpen the blade. And while in the early months of my pregnancy with your brother, I killed your sire. I even contemplating killing the both of you, but I couldn't!"

Both his sons flinched at that confession, Isandro ducking his head town while Ambrus took a step back. His eyes were wide, mind trying to process everything he was hearing.

"So I brought you home. And the only way to keep you both alive was to talk the Court into allowing you be guardians of Athens. My own father did not know what I suffered through! And he would have had no quarrel picking up a blade and beheading you both." He inhaled deeply, calming himself. "I did plan on telling you both one day, but I decided against it as well. Everything I have done was to ensure you were kept alive."

Ambrus scoffed. "Like making us guardians to fight your battles."

"He only did that because he knows we won't lose," Isandro pointed out.

Theseus nodded. "Your sire was a strong creature," he told them. "I hated him, but I have to admit he was strong. If either of you two had half his strength, I knew you would be just as difficult to kill as him."

"Then how did you do it?" Ambrus asked, pacing the room.

Theseus shook his head. "He was asleep," he admitted, earning the snarl from his older child. "I was pregnant with Isandro, weak after being forced on, and the Minotaur was asleep. That was my only chance. Was it the coward's way? Yes. But it was the only way."

Ambrus's pacing grew faster, nearly frantic, before he snorted angrily and stormed to the door. "You never cared for us," he accused, slamming the door open as he marched out.

"Ambrus!" Theseus called out to him. "Ambrus!"

"You should have just lied again," Isandro stated as he got to his feet. "You were good at that."

The king lowered his head before turning it slightly to look at the younger. "How did you find out?" he asked lowly.

"I didn't know about the part of you thinking about killing us," he confessed. "But I had heard the stories of our sire. Unlike Ambrus, I can put the numbers together. I had suspicions about our conception for a long time. I am only surprised that you kept us."

"I didn't know what to think when I killed the Minotaur. I did think about killing you both, but everything I tried, I went back. I dropped the knife. I turned back around to get your brother. His crying tore me apart. I couldn't kill or leave either of you to die."

"And you take shame in it. No one is supposed to know you had us because it is your shame." He noticed the clenching fists on the desk before sighing gently. "I'll go find Ambrus. Try to calm him down. You'll know if I don't succeed."

 **Here the Chapter Ends**

 **So there we go. We got some important stuff to go, but now we have some of it out of the way. I had to do some hunting to find good ancient Greek names that I felt would suit everyone. Was thinking Atlas and Brutus for the minotaur brothers, but then thought otherwise and started searching.**

 **Let me know what everyone thinks! Like I said above, Harry won't be coming in until later. Right now, we're getting these two out of the way.**

 **Also, in case anyone is curious, the names and their meaning (as I found them online) are below.**

 **Isandro – one who frees or releases men**

 **Ambrus – to be immortal**

 **Cyrus – far sighted**

 **Callidora – gift of beauty**

 **Galen – calm or peaceful**

 **Nicanor - victory**


	2. Ambrus and Isandro 2

**Well this took off better than I was expecting. Thanks for all the support!**

 **And I would like to give a very special shout-out to someone who has been helping me with this story. SleepyMangaHead has been helping me sort out ideas for this story, mentioning things I did not even think about and informing me of other things I knew nothing about. When it comes to the mythological viewpoint, I have books to help me out. Things that are not? Well…I am severely lacking. So thank you, Sleepy, for all your help! ^_^**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any form of Greek Mythology, the comic mentioned in the notes last chapter, or Harry Potter. Not even sure if I own Ambrus and Isandro. Do own Cyrus and Callidora, because as far as I am aware, they were born from my head.**

 **Here the Chapter Starts**

Things were not the same. At least, not with Ambrus. He avoided Theseus as though he had the plague. Spent less and less time with Isandro. Became wilder in any fights he participated in.

Isandro did notice his older brother disappearing time to time, sometimes not seen for the rest of the day. He tried following him once, but it is a lot harder for a minotaur to blend into a crowd than a human. Ambrus found him and the resulting argument was not one that he wished to ever repeat. They may have had their disagreements, but never have they fought as such.

It wasn't just his brother, either. Their father had changed as well. As though a heavy burden was relieved from his shoulders only to be replaced by the heavier one only a parent could understand. The knowledge that one of his children now hates him. Ambrus never came right out and said it, but it was obvious by his behavior.

He knew that Ambrus was just going through a hate phase. He was hurt, confused, and enraged. That was not a good combination, especially for his brother, under any circumstance. So for now, Ambrus stewed in silence, lashing out when pushed too far. Some days, the push wasn't even needed. Those were the days the crowd simply parted as he passed or he didn't leave his room for the day, enjoying the company of the palace serving girls instead.

Oh, he knew of his brother's libido, or stress relief as he called it. It was hard not to notice the various women leaving Ambrus's room or the servants limping. He was sure even their father knew about it, but never said a word. Especially with his brother's attitude now.

A sigh slipped out as Isandro entered his own room, gently closing the door behind him. He worried for his brother and their father. Wondered how long this will go on until one of them finally caves. And where is Cyrus?

He looked around his room briefly. There was no familiar lump on his bed. No clattering of objects that Cyrus was obsessed with keeping clean. "Cyrus?" he called out lowly.

"Here," Cyrus replied back, weakly lifting a hand high enough for Isandro to see it at the foot of the bed.

"Are you well?" he asked, stepping closer.

"I do not know," his lover replied.

When he was in Isandro's sight, the minotaur blinked in surprise. His hair was messier than usual, his skin pale, and eye bloodshot. "You do not look well," he pointed out, kneeling next to the young man and placing his large hand across Cyrus's forehead.

"I was sick this morning," he told him with a hesitant smile. "Perhaps it was something I ate."

Isandro shook his head, removing his hand from the other's forehead. "Have you been sick since?"

"Just a moment ago," he admitted. "I was waiting for the rolling in my stomach to pass."

Gently, Isandro picked Cyrus up off the floor then placed him on the bed. Once his arms were no longer supporting the young man up, the blonde fell back onto the bed, his clothing flat against his torso. That was when Isandro saw something he did not notice before.

"When did this happen?" he asked, his large hand slipping under his tunic and covering the small bump on his lover's stomach, the elevation of skin almost molding to his palm.

Cyrus hummed in confusion before letting out another of understanding, realizing what Isandro was asking about. "I don't know," he answered. "It has been there for a few days. I thought that perhaps I was eating too much and it is finally affecting me."

"No, it's too firm," Isandro pointed out, applying little pressure to the bump. He lowered his head, ear against the swell. Cyrus watched in confusion, but let him do what he wished.

The minotaur could hear his lover's heartbeat, slightly faster than normal. The gurgling of the recently emptied stomach. And another sound, tiny little beats racing. His other ear flicked curiously, eyes narrowed in thought as he tried to place that sound. He had listened to his lover's heart beat often, enjoying the comfort the sound had to offer. Occasionally he would pick up on the sound of his stomach asking for food, which always made him laugh and Cyrus blush in embarrassment. But this one was new.

He lifted his head, tilting it to the side as his brows furrowed in thought. Cyrus watched him worriedly. "When did you notice it?" he asked, dark blue eyes connecting with the lighter shade.

Cyrus chewed on his lower lip. "A couple weeks ago," he replied. "It was smaller then."

Ears dropped to be flat against his skull. A new sound and a growing swell on his lover's belly. Between him and his brother, Isandro will proudly brag that he is the smarter one. Though at this moment, he wished he was a little slower solving this puzzle.

But his sire managed to do the same to his father. Theseus had told him it was because Asterios was a 'beast from heaven' according to Minos. Apparently he had enough divinity from his unusual conception that he was able to sire both him and Ambrus with a human male. He always doubted that either one of them could do the same.

"Isandro?" Cyrus called to him, placing his small hand on the minotaur's muscular arm.

"I…" He sighed, unsure how to even begin explaining to Cyrus his condition. Not without revealing sensitive family information as well. "There is someone I need to speak with first. It's important."

"You know something," Cyrus accused him.

"Please," he said lowly. "There is something I need to discuss with someone first before we can even touch this subject. Just trust me. That's all I ask."

Eyes half-lidded, the blonde man nodded his head. "I do," he told him gently. "But the way you just acted…it worries me."

With a low rumble in his chest, Isandro leaned forward to nuzzle Cyrus's head with his own. "Don't be," he reassured his lover. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. And if things go well enough, I will have no secrets kept from you."

 **Change Here**

Ambrus liked to consider himself lucky at times like this. While his mind was plagued with dark thoughts since his father confessed what really happened when they were conceived, he could find solace here. Not because it was a temple. But because it has a lovely priestess with an insatiable appetite for him, begging to be filled with his essence, and even surprising him one day.

How? Well, she had all her acolytes' strip down to nothing and tied to a pole in the middle of the floor. She told the young women that this was Aphrodite's test. Should they pass, Aphrodite would bless them. He really didn't care. All he cared about now is that he has a small harem of temple women, one being a priestess. Best part there. Though many men and women worship Aphrodite in her temple, he doubted that the public would be so lenient about him being there. He knew better, oh yes, but he really wanted Callidora and he now has her exactly where both of them want her to be.

Her clothes torn off. Her laying on her back. Breasts bouncing as their bodies danced in unison. Her long, smooth legs wide opened. Her womb full of his semen, and his cock thrusting into her tight, willing passage. Moans and gasps slipping past her lips as her hands grabbed the torn clothing, the sheets under her, even his arms and chest, gripping the hair that covered his body.

The acolytes' were already scattered over the floor, proof of his coupling with them slowly pouring out of their bodies. Their breaths heavy, chests heaving. Eyes drinking in the image of him on their priestess, making Callidora cry out for him and him alone. Making her beg to be filled by him. Turning her into his whore just like he did with the rest of them.

And who was he to deny any of them what they crave?

All it took with them was one round. One round each, and they were begging for more, even the one who was married already. Not that he really cared. Some of the palace women were married but still visit him for more satisfying sex.

Her walls tightened around him, squeezing more of his seed into her already full womb. Her belly stretched at the added load inside of her, him staying where he was, enjoying the heat and tightness she had to offer until her body went lax. Callidora panted heavily as Ambrus leaned over her, supporting himself on his elbows. She turned her head to face him, hands reaching up and running through the hair on the back of his neck.

"You truly are a gift," she panted. "A blessing from Aphrodite."

He chuckled lowly, tongue lapping out at the sweat covered skin of her neck. "Well, I suppose if that is how you wish to see me," he commented, sitting back up onto his knees. His hands caressed the bump of her stomach, tempted to pull out of her, press on the swell to force his semen from her body only to enter her again and refill the priestess.

She giggled at his light touches. "Will I see you at the wedding tomorrow?" she asked.

"Wedding?" he repeated, looking at her inquiringly.

"The king's wedding," she told him, pushing herself up onto her elbows. "His bride-to-be arrives today. They are to be wed tomorrow."

There went his good mood, thrown from his self with a vicious snarl. She gasped painfully as he pulled from her, not expecting the sudden exit. He came here to escape, not be reminded.

 **Change Here**

"You weren't at the wedding this morning," his brother pointed out nonchalantly, making Ambrus's eye twitch slightly.

Lips pulled back in a snarl, showing slightly sharp teeth. "Tell me why I should have gone," he challenged.

"Because our father was taking a wife," Isandro stated. "The first wife he's ever had."

"Right, because as we are his shame, he never took one for fear of his shameful secret being let out," the older minotaur snarled.

"Is that what you think?" his younger brother asked him with an annoyed snort.

"Why else would he hide the truth from everyone. Us included! He lied to everyone and to us our whole lives!"

"And what did you think really happened, Ambrus?!" Isandro snapped, pushing his brother's shoulder roughly. "I suspected what happened between him and our sire. But you? What were you expecting? Did you think our father loved our sire? That he willingly opened himself to Asterios? That he bore us with pride in his heart and love in his eyes? How blind are you?!"

Ambrus bellowed loudly, charging at his brother. Their bodies collided, the older pushing the younger into a wall and pinning him there. "I didn't know what to think!" he yelled. "I know you remember as well as I do. I do remember that dagger above my heart. I do remember being left in the dark and screaming for him to come back! But I also remember our sire. You were born after his death, you know nothing of him! I slept when he was murdered, and simply thought he was gone elsewhere in those endless halls. I remember him holding me like he was scared I would break. I remember him waking me up in the middle of the night, making sure I was still alive! I remember!" He pulled back, releasing his brother.

"I remember seeing him on top of our father. I remember how our father let him. What else was I suppose to think? I did not know what they were doing or understand it! Then I wake up one night and father is silent, numb. Our sire gone. Only to find out why! Just like that, after twenty-three years! Now we are told what happened! Now I am told that our father killed our sire…while he slept!"

Isandro was silent through the rant. Head down but eyes trained on his brother. They did have amazing memory. Humans forgot things over the years, but not them. Though not remembering the trauma of his birth itself, Isandro remembered the cave he was born in. Remembered the first thing he saw was his older brother, peering down at him quietly, trying to figure out what he was. He remembered the basket that their father hid them in when he brought them home. How he pleaded to his own father, hiding the truth of their conception and birth, to spare their lives.

"He does love us, brother," he spoke quietly. "You heard him before. His own father would have killed us without hesitation. He could have stepped back and let him. Instead, he talked him and the Court out of killing us. He told them that we could be guardians of this city so that we could live. Was there a chance of the big secret slipping out? Yes. But he fought to keep us." Swallowing thickly, he went on.

"I know you're angry because now you know Father killed our sire. You right, I didn't know him and you did. I don't understand your rage, but I know it. But our father was in a situation he did not want. He gave birth to the children of a 'monster'. And he kept us, raised us, and loved us the only way he could. But you are so stuck on the thought that he killed our sire, you're not even thinking about everything else."

Ambrus snorted angrily, shaking his head as his breath heaved. "Like what?"

"When we were five and you took food from a new servant," he started. "It was poisoned. Father had that servant punished, the doctor hunted down for supplying it. He had his servants looking everywhere for a doctor that didn't care what we are. And the whole time he was by your side. He watched over you, kept the cold, wet cloth on your forehead to lower your fever. Fed you food crushed into paste so that you would keep up your strength. Cleaned you up every time your stomach forced you to get rid of it all. Even when the doctor was brought in to heal you, he did not leave the room."

Water gathered in Ambrus's eyes, his lips still curled back as his eyelids squeezed shut. He remembered that. He vomited until his stomach couldn't even produce the fluid it was supposed to. He had a hard time keeping the water down at first, but eventually could. Then the paste, crushed fruit and ground meat. It was disgusting mixed together, and he threw that up at first as well. But like with the water, eventually could keep it down little at a time.

"Nine years old, you threw your dagger at me, completely by accident," Isandro went on. "Did father punish you? No, he held you as you cried over me. You were worried you hurt me badly. He saw that, and he comforted you. If he did not love us, do you think he would do that?"

"Stop it," Ambrus growled. "You made your point."

The younger brother sighed, hoping he truly did. Ambrus could be hard to convince, but he was hoping that maybe this would soothe the rage that had been growing in him. Perhaps a reminder of what their father had done for them would help him forget the pain of losing their sire, of learning the truth as to how.

The door opened and Theseus stepping inside. "I heard yelling. Are you two alright?" he asked as the door closed behind him.

"I'm fine, father," Isandro told him.

"Not right now," Ambrus replied. "But I will be."

Theseus approached his eldest, slightly unsure if the older minotaur would allow him close contact. Slowly, he placed his hand on the minotaur's arm. "What is wrong, Ambrus?"

His eldest shook his head, the water in his eyes sliding from the corners and down his hair covered cheek. "Isandro making a point," he chuckled. "I'm sorry, father."

A squeeze on his arm was his only response before the hand left. "You were not at the wedding?" he spoke with a questioning tone, though the answer was obvious. As well as the reason for the subject change. A distraction from his thoughts.

"No," he admitted. "I could not force myself to attend."

"It is fine," Theseus reassured him.

"Are you going to tell her?" Ambrus asked, looking over his shoulder.

For a moment, Theseus was silent. Then he exhaled heavily. "I have thought about it, and thought against it."

"Then don't. Hide it from her like you did everyone else." The way he spoke was a monotone, emotions gone from his voice. "She does not need to know. It is not information she is required to have knowledge of."

"You are sure?"

Even Isandro looked at him in surprise, expecting a different reaction from the normally short-tempered brother. It was no surprise as to why their father was stunned.

Ambrus nodded. "It's fine," he said. "It's your secret, father. If you do not want her to know, then we will say nothing. For as long as she is concerned, we are simply the guardians of this city." A low chuckle slipped out. "Besides, we do not wish to scare away your new bride before she gives you an heir." Before either could say anything more, Ambrus turned and swiftly left the room.

Theseus watched him go until the door closed behind him. "That went well enough, I suppose," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

"You know Ambrus, father," Isandro told him. "He'll come around. Perhaps a little easier now." He cleared his throat, bringing his father's gaze from the door to him. "There is something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yes?"

"We both know Ambrus has multiple women warming his bed," he started. "What you do not know is that I have a lover as well." Theseus quirked his eyebrow in question. Isandro could hear it without his father voicing it. "It is Cyrus. And I believe he may be with child."

"With child?" Theseus repeated in shock. Yes, he suffered through two pregnancies, but he did not think for a moment that his sons could do the same as their sire.

"He has been ill a few mornings, and more times through the day," the younger minotaur explained hesitantly. "A swell on his belly has slowly been growing. And I heard something new inside of him. Our ears are sensitive enough to pick up a lot of things. I could hear his heart beating and his stomach when hungry. But I heard something new, father. Fast beats. They were not there before."

"And you believe it is a child?" the king asked.

Isandro shrugged. "What else could it be?" he responded. "But what can I tell him? If I tell him he is carrying, he will want to know how." He lowered his head, shaking it slightly, before looking back to his father with a determined gaze. "I want him to know the truth."

"No," the man rejected firmly.

"At least part of it!" Isandro pleaded. "He does not need to know it was you. I could tell him the same thing you tell others, only instead of a woman being my mother, it was a man. If you do not want me to tell him that you birthed me, then fine. But he has to know some form of the truth."

Theseus sighed as he tilted his head back, as though trying to spot the gods high above and question them as to why. The young minotaur did not know which 'why' he was asking. But he was sure it was one of them. Finally, the king nodded. "Very well. Tell him."

"Thank you, father."

 **Change Here**

Cyrus laid across his torso, his fingers carting through the darker, thick hair on his chest. "You wanted to tell me something?" he asked.

Isandro groaned lowly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I am trying to think of how to tell you because not even I understand it well enough," he admitted. "It is obvious who my sire was."

"The Bull of Minos," Cyrus supplied uncaringly. He knew the story of the Bull, but he also knows Isandro.

He was frightened at first. Who wouldn't be? Both the brothers towered over any man, their horns, while not long, were sharp enough to gore. The thick muscles on them did not even need to be flexed to show how strong the two actually are.

So yes, he was scared of them. Terrified when King Theseus gave him to the younger one. But as he spent more time around Isandro, the less his fear ebbed at him until it vanished completely. Ambrus did still scare him at times, but he did not go far when Isandro was there to calm him. If it wasn't for their appearance, it would be hard to believe they are brothers.

"Yes," Isandro sighed, the inhale deep enough that his chest rose, lifting Cyrus as well. "My mother was human. But…"

"What?" the young blonde man coaxed.

"I hope you think no less," he muttered. "My mother was a human man."

Cyrus blinked in surprise then rose enough to stare at the minotaur's face. Isandro was avoiding eye contact, preferring to see the dullness of the ceiling. "A man?"

"Yes. My sire, Asterios, was a creature made from the meddling of the gods to punish Minos for refusing to sacrifice the Cretan Bull back to Poseidon. When my 'mother' was carrying me, no one knew. The king rescued my mother from the labyrinth, but birth did kill him. Ambrus's mother was already dead, though not from labor as I understand it."

"How did – Asterios, was it? – sire a child with a man?"

"He apparently had some divinity from the gods responsible for his conception. For some reason, that divinity allowed him to impregnate men."

Cyrus looked down, eyes landing on the swell of his own stomach before realization dawned on him, now knowing why Isandro was telling him this. "You're able to do the same," he said lowly, hand on his bump.

"It appears so," the minotaur answered with a nod of his head, eyes still glued to the white stone of his ceiling. He briefly noticed a crack that would need to be gotten rid of before it became worse and dropped the ceiling on him and Cyrus.

"Are you sure?" the blonde asked.

"In a way," he answered, eyes tracing that newly found crack. "The swell is growing, but not expanding beyond your belly. It cannot be you eating too much otherwise it would affect your whole body, not just your stomach. I also heard a new sound inside you, little fast beats. If I am wrong, then I am wrong. But I am almost certain you are carrying my child."

There was silence for a moment. Isandro was afraid that Cyrus would soon flee from him in disgust, calling him the term so many called his sire. But there was no yelling or fleeing. Only Cyrus laying back down on his chest, his fingers returning to the hair he was stroking before.

"Our child," Cyrus corrected him.

 **Change Here**

"He married an Amazon woman?!" Ambrus exclaimed in shock. "And he feels shame from us."

"He won her," Isandro pointed out. "That was a fight we were left out of. Mainly because you were grounded."

"He can't ground me," his older brother muttered. "Still, he is ashamed of us, yet he captured and marries the queen of the Amazonian women. And now she's pregnant. I feel his love now."

The younger minotaur sighed in annoyance, throwing his cleaning cloth at his brother. The cloth caught onto a horn, nearly dangling over Ambrus's eye. "At least an Amazonian woman can bear him a human son," he pointed out. "For his heir to the throne?"

"Don't talk to me as though there is no brain in my head!" Ambrus snarled, eyes narrowed and teeth bared as he jerked the cloth from his horn.

"Tell me something, brother," the younger spoke gently, inspecting the shine of his axe and the sharpness of the edge. "Do you feel anger because father wants a human as his heir? Do you crave his throne?"

"No," Ambrus snorted harshly. "I feel anger, brother, because he does not acknowledge us as his sons to everyone else."

"It is his desire to keep such a sensitive secret between us. We know he is our father. He could have tried to hide that from us all our lives, but he didn't. It would have been just as easy for him to tell us the story he lets everyone else believe. He doesn't know how our memory is."

The older exhaled angrily, fist hitting the wall. "I know," he said lowly. "I know."

Isandro watched his brother closely, sensing there was something else that was wrong with him. But should he pry for that information, it may make Ambrus angrier. Perhaps some other news would help ease his mood. Despite not wanting to let his brother know, it would be unfair to him. Theseus knows now. It was only right Ambrus knows as well. He will just have to handle the teasing and the eventual overbearing uncle phase he will no doubt go through. Not to mention the anger at not knowing before.

"I have a lover," he started.

Ambrus tilted his head, ears perked curiously. "Oh? Do I know her?"

Isandro huffed a small laugh. "As if I would love a woman when there is a chance my own brother had claimed her first," he joked. "No, there is no 'her'. My lover is Cyrus."

"The slave present?" It was obvious that his older brother truly was confused now.

"He is no slave, especially not to me," the younger minotaur pointed out as he lowered his axe across his legs. "But yes."

"How long?"

"A few years."

"Does father know?"

"I told him recently due to circumstances. I wanted his permission to tell Cyrus the truth."

"That is very serious, brother," Ambrus pointed out, sitting across from the darker minotaur. "What did father say?"

"I was only allowed to say I was born from a man," Isandro replied with a shake of his head and wave of his hand. "But I want you to know now."

"I am glad you share this with me," his brother said with a smirk. "Don't worry, I won't steal your lover. I prefer mine with delicious breasts and no cock but mine between their legs."

Isandro let out a loud "Ha!" at that. He always knew Ambrus was with various women. No one said anything, but it was obvious. "There is something else," he went on, the good mood shifting to focus on his anxious nerves. "He's carrying."

"Carrying…?" Ambrus drawled out, as if expecting another word.

"My child," the younger brother added nervously. "Well, he says 'our child', so I will take that as a good sign that he is accepting of it."

His brother said nothing, only staring at him with wide eyes, unblinking. For a moment, Isandro thought he broke his own brother. His mouth opened, as though trying to say something, but closed like he thought better of it. It repeated the action a couple more times before Ambrus finally shook his head and blinked his eyes rapidly. "I must admit," he said with a shaky laugh. "Hearing that I will be an uncle is not what I was expecting."

"You are not angry that I kept this from you?"

"Angry? No, brother, this is a joyous occasion! My little brother is going to be a sire! Why would I be angry?"

"I just worry needlessly, it seems," Isandro laughed with his brother.

"How far?" Ambrus asked excitedly.

"I am unsure. He is showing, though faintly. The bump is noticeable, but does not stand out." He was silent for a second, thinking back to the little sound he heard. "I think I heard its heart beating."

"That must have been nice," the older minotaur commented with a small smile. "Congratulations, brother."

"Thank you."

The two fell into a comfortable silence. "Wonder if I sired with any of the women I bedded," Ambrus commented in thought then froze at the very idea. "I would not be a very good sire."

"Nonsense," Isandro told him calmly. "I know you, my brother. If you have sired a child, then it does not matter whether you love the mother or not. You will protect that child, because that is who you are. And you will love it the only way a sire could."

"I can only hope so." Ambrus sighed, leaning into the back of his seat. His eyes squinted in thought before he looked back to his brother. "Is father's new wife that woman with one breast?"

Isandro rolled his eyes, figuring that is something his sex-driven brother would notice. "Yes."

"Why would she maim herself as such?"

The younger shrugged. "Something to do with their bows."

Ambrus hummed in acceptance. Then, "What is her name?"

"Hippolyta."

 **Change Here**

Isandro held the newborn gently, fearing he may accidentally break the squirming babe. "Cyrus, I am going to drop him," he said worriedly.

The tired blonde shook his head reassuringly, the sweat coating his skin not yet dry and his hair clinging to his forehead. "You will not," he said gently, placing a hand on the arm of the minotaur. The babe was minotaur as well, but with a much lighter coat, inheriting Cyrus's hair color over Isandro's own. Though the hair around the neck, chest, and upper back was brown, the rest was closer to a golden brown. "He is well?"

"Well enough. I know nothing of newborns," the minotaur admitted sheepishly. "You?"

"Some rest and I shall be fine," Cyrus told him with a soft smile.

"I can still go fetch the doctor, have him check over you."

"No need, I will be fine after I rest." Blue eyes of both shades looked down at the squealing babe, tiny hands wrapping around Isandro's fingers as large sapphire blue eyes looked around the room. "Yevgeni."

"What?" Isandro asked, looking down at his tired lover.

"His name. Yevgeni. He does have noble blood, after all. He gets it from his sire. There is no nobler being."

He smiled as he passed his newborn son back to Cyrus, who took him into his arms gently. "Yevgeni," Isandro tested the way it rolled from his tongue before nodding in acceptance. "Yevgeni," he repeated, his thumb rubbing over the soft head of their son.

 **Change Here**

"When can I see him?" Ambrus asked excitedly.

"When you calm yourself," Isandro replied, shoving his brother away from him. "I fear you may get too excited seeing your nephew that you may harm him. Accidentally, of course."

"Right," the older scoffed. "Let me see my nephew, brother. At least tell me his name!"

Isandro chuckled, briefly wondering why he always had to be the mature one. Granted, the thought of his son filled him with prideful happiness and made him giddy. "Yevgeni," he told him.

Ambrus seemed to think over it before nodding once. "And Cyrus? How is he?"

"He slept through the night and now he is rested enough that he kicked me out of our chambers to inform you and father," he replied, happy at first before slipping into a sulk. "Never let it be said Cyrus does not have his way of handling me." A snorting laugh slipped from his older brother, prompting the younger minotaur to backhand his chest. "Be silent."

"You should choose your words better, brother," he taunted with a grin. "Does father know yet?"

"No," Isandro replied with a shake of his head. "I told you first."

"Ah, I am honored to be your first choice in sharing this happy news," Ambrus said, wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulder before squeezing him to his side. "Perhaps I should give you mine now. Though, I am not sure if it is happy. In fact, you must tell no one."

That caught his brother's attention quickly, their joyous mood sobering quickly. "What is wrong?" he asked lowly.

"I may have been with a woman I should not have been with," Ambrus admitted, dropping his arm. Isandro quirked a brow. "Fine, I could be with her but I doubt the people would really like it. But she is so beautiful, brother! I could not keep my hands to myself."

"Name one woman you have not touched," the younger challenged.

"Eurybia," Ambrus supplied quickly, thinking of the elderly cook who led the other cooks.

Isandro rolled his eyes. "A young woman."

Ambrus thought for a moment, then said, "Kalypso. I am sure she is not a sea nymph nor is she the daughter of Atlas, but the name drives me away. I will not risk it."

"That may have been what her mother was wanting," Isandro muttered under his breath as he rubbed his forehead. "And this woman you should probably not be with?"

"Her name is Callidora, and it suits her perfectly," he chuckled.

"And the reason why you should not be with her? Let me guess, she is married."

"No." Isandro had the brief impression that Ambrus has been with several married women, and thus, was not bothered by that restriction.

"Too young?"

"Definitely not." Of course not. Ambrus would never touch a child or any female unless they were of proper age.

"The daughter of a king."

"Not as I know. And you know I would not care about that."

"Yes, I remember walking in on you with Princess Nerine in the garden."

"Her name was asking for it. And she was flirting with me all night. I want it to be known that as soon as she was away from the eyes of her father, she removed the top half of her dress to me. And sat on the bench with her legs open."

"And you needed no more coaxing from her."

"She fits her name."

"Back to Callidora."

"She's a priestess of Aphrodite."

Ambrus made it two more steps before realizing his brother stopped. Slowly, he turned to face the younger minotaur. "Truly?" Isandro asked blandly. "The priests and priestesses of Aphrodite have sex on a daily basis, brother. That's one of their ways of worshiping her."

"I know, but something happened. And I may need you help."

"Why do you need my help?" Isandro sighed dejectedly. "What did you do that requires you coming to me and telling me this?"

The older minotaur shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "I may have gotten her pregnant, as well as about three of her acolytes. And possibly one of the new cooks. She's married, so I don't know if it is mine or her husband's."

"You may have?"

Looking guilty, his brother admitted, "Callidora told me about the baby about a month after you told me about Cyrus. Her three acolytes vary in time. I visited them a lot."

It is a problem. While some were aware of Ambrus's lust, not many said anything. Him visiting a priestess of Aphrodite would probably not cause much of a ruckus either. But her being pregnant with his child? That was not something the people would overlook. "How long until the priestess is due?"

"Soon. She's hiding in my room right now," he grumbled. "No one here knows she's a priestess without her proper attire, but if the priests of the temple come here looking for her… especially after the acolytes have their children…"

"Your secret is revealed. Ugh!" Another rub on his forehead. "I should just leave you to your own mess, but I would feel much guilt if I do. What is it you need?"

 **Change Here**

Two births happened in the same month, one in secret and the other announced to the kingdom.

Theseus's wife bore him a son, Hippolytus, but the new mother was ill after giving birth. The doctors were trying what they could, but doubted she would survive. Her pregnancy was tough on her body. She was forbidden to leave the bed during the last four months.

The other birth happened in the secrecy of Ambrus's chamber. The only ones present besides the new sire were his brother, Cyrus, and his month-old nephew. Isandro held Yevgeni while Cyrus did what he could to help Callidora. Ambrus was no help due to his pacing. After hours of trying to muffle her cries and screams, the baby slipped from her body. As Callidora laid panting on the bed, her hair splayed around her and her legs shaking, Cyrus picked up the newborn minotaur babe, gently cleaning her bodily fluids from the black coat.

Isandro had to calm his brother and nearly shoved him to the bed, mindful of the priestess. After wrapping the babe with a soft blanket, Cyrus passed the newborn to Callidora. With a watery smile, she named him Bacchus. Ambrus was too frightened to hold him, thinking he could drop or crush the tiny new life that just entered the world. Yevgeni seemed fascinated by his new cousin, waving his arms wildly before Isandro gently grasped them to prevent being hit by his son.

When things finally settled down, the brothers sat at the other side of the room, watching over their family. "I wonder," Isandro started lowly.

"What troubles you, little brother?" Ambrus asked, turning his head slightly but still keeping Callidora and Bacchus in his sight.

"Our sire was THE Minotaur," he started. "We look as much minotaur as he did, I assume. We certainly do not look human, despite our 'mother' being human. Now we each have a child from humans, but they appear minotaur as well. Do you think this will continue down the line? That the human in them will never overpower their bull blood?"

Ambrus shrugged uncaringly. "Does it matter?" he replied. "We may have struggled growing up…but not our sons. We will make sure of that." Isandro nodded with a smirk before chuckling. "Something amuses you now?"

"I was just thinking," he admitted, turning his head to face his brother. "Should all our children be minotaurs, we will definitely know who the father of the cook's child is, as well as the acolytes. You have a lot to worry about, brother."

A groan slipped from the older brother as he dropped his head into his hand. "I am in trouble."

His younger brother laughed loudly, slapping him on the back. Bacchus and Yevgeni both cried at the loud sound, making Cyrus and Callidora glare at the snickering minotaur.

 **Change Here**

Hippolyta passed shortly after the birth of Theseus's heir. The king did not seem particularly heartbroken, but they could tell that their father was hurting. Hippolytus would need a wet-nurse until he could be weaned. Some women would fall over themselves for the chance to nurse a king's child, hoping they could catch his attention enough to be the next wife and join the royal blood with their own.

The brothers cut those vultures off before any could catch wind of the situation. Both have sons born recently enough that their mothers still produce milk. Callidora produced more than Cyrus, Bacchus seeming to have the larger appetite and her body made for such a task. When they told their father that their lovers could nurse their baby half-brother until he was at the age of weaning, he accepted. On some days, Cyrus had to nurse due to Callidora being drained too fast for her to produce more.

Ambrus did eventually tell their father about Callidora, just leaving out the part of her being a priestess. While Theseus seemed glad that his older son was finally settling down with one woman (he was also not told of the possibility of other women being pregnant with Ambrus's children), the brothers doubted he would be so accepting if he knew she was a priestess. No matter which god or goddess she worships.

Theseus was, of course, introduced to his new grandsons. Though like with the brothers, he would never admit it to anyone outside of the family. Not even Cyrus or Callidora would know. Ambrus always seemed annoyed by this.

"Are the children not allowed to know either?!" he raged one afternoon as he and his brother trained. "Only us three?! It is as though he refuses to acknowledge his own grandsons!"

Isandro blocked the maul with the side of his large axe, the harsh contact ringing into his sensitive ears. "At least he does acknowledge them," he pointed out. "Maybe not as grandsons, but he does accept them."

He swung his axe towards his brother's torso, the larger minotaur jumping back to avoid the swing. "But it is only fair they know!"

"Perhaps he fears they will slip when they are older." He ducked under the maul that flew for his head, the stone barely missing the tips of his horns.

"We didn't!" Ambrus pointed out before the shaft of the axe was pushed against his stomach, forcing him back by the strength of his younger brother.

"We were not around other people, only him," the other pointed out as the older minotaur caught his lost breath. "I understand your frustration, brother. It annoys me as well. I want Yevgeni to grow up knowing our father is his grandfather. And I am sure you want the same for Bacchus. But what are we to do?"

The other growled as he rubbed the site of impact, ears flicking in annoyance as eyes narrowed in anger. "We tell them," he said. "If he is so worried of them saying something before they understand that it is a secret, we tell them when they are old enough."

"Against father's wishes?"

"To Hades with father's wishes! They don't have to grow up thinking they will inherit the throne! That is Hippolytus's line that will! Just to know that they have family outside of us!" His chest rumbled as he turned, mounting his maul on the wall. Below it were another few hooks to hold Isandro's axe. "Did father tell you we are not to call Hippolytus 'brother'?"

Isandro nodded sadly. "Yes," he replied. "He did."

Neither of them could understand that. Keeping the secret from their lovers was one thing, the children another. But to not verbally acknowledge their own baby brother? Theseus might as well have told them they are not his sons.

The younger minotaur sighed heavily, approaching his brother then placed his axe on the mount in front of them. "I know it hurts," he said lowly. "I do not know what goes through your head, but I do know mine."

"I will tell you what goes through my mind," Ambrus snarled. "Father does not see us as his sons. We are nothing more than his shame."

Isandro shook his head in denial. "That is not true and you know it."

A snort harshly forced its way from the other. "Open your eyes, little brother, and just see."

 **Change Here**

"Do you plan on taking responsibility for all of them?" Theseus asked his eldest, who sat uncaringly on his bed while the king paced the room. Callidora was asked to take Bacchus and leave the room. All she said as she left was that she would go let Bacchus play with his cousin.

"Yes," Ambrus said coldly. "Unlike you, father, I take do plan on taking care of my sons and raising them as such."

"Do not speak to me as though I have done anything wrong!" Theseus shouted at him. "You are still alive because of me! And I know I raised you better than this! Three children, not including Bacchus!"

"And one ruined marriage, as well as the realization that I am not the only one who unintentionally impregnates the acolytes," Ambrus noted with a jerk of his head.

As it had turned out, while his next sons were born over the next few months, the cook's child is his, but one of the acolytes had the child of a traveling merchant. As Isandro had predicted, all three newborn sons were, in fact, minotaur in appearance. And since Ambrus is the one known to sleep with many women, as soon as Theseus found out about the babes, he went straight to his eldest.

"That is beside the point," Theseus seethed. He sighed, shaking his head. "How many more are there?"

The minotaur growled lowly, rising to his feet. "Do not talk about my sons as though they are a plague on the land," he warned, making his father take an instinctive step back. "As for your question, I was only made aware of these four, Bacchus included. If I have more children out there, then I do not know about them. And you will refrain from speaking about my children as though they are poison on your tongue."

"I am upset, Ambrus, I do not mean to speak as such," the king attempted to soothe his eldest.

"No, you do." Ambrus scoffed in annoyance, shaking his head. "They are my sons and I will be their sire. If that means moving them here, then I am fine with that."

"At least one will be here," Theseus pointed out. "After she birthed your child instead of her husband's, Damali was thrown from her home. And now I have the priests breathing down my neck over the acolytes. As well as questioning if their missing priestess is hiding here as well. Is she, Ambrus?"

Dark eyes narrowed at the accusation that went unsaid.

"Is Callidora the missing priestess of Aphrodite?" Theseus stressed.

Large hands clenched and unclenched, ready to do whatever he needed in order to protect his family. "She is," he answered.

The king shook his head, hand running through his thick dark locks as he rolled his eyes. "I have overlooked your trysts thus far, Ambrus, but-"

"Do not think I will hesitate to kill even you should my family be threatened," Ambrus growled, cutting Theseus's rant short.

He froze in surprise. That was not a reaction he was expecting.

"Should anyone come near my sons or any of their mothers, I will hunt them down and I will tear them to pieces," he went on, stomping towards his father. "I do not care what happens to me. But no one is going to touch them so long as I breathe, not even you. Even if I am on the brink of death, even if Hades was right in front of me waiting to take my soul, so long as I am breathing, I will defend my family. I will defend my sons and their mothers. And no one will ever touch them!"

Inhaling deeply, all Theseus could do was nod his head in acceptance. Though he did not want to argue, the consequences of his tryst with the priestess will eventually catch up to him. There is only so much he can do in that regard. Ambrus must know this.

But his eldest only turned away, heading towards the door. "I will go speak with Damali. I am responsible for my son and it is my fault her marriage has fallen apart."

Theseus could not say a single word before Ambrus was out of the room.

 **Change Here**

Isandro no longer knew what to do.

One the one hand, his own family needed him. His love and his son both needed him to care for them, protect them.

On the other, Ambrus was in deep trouble with more children than himself to care for. Four sons and four mothers under his protection.

What he told Theseus weeks ago was true. He would kill whomever threatened his sons or the mothers. The priests had found Callidora, lying in the bed of the older minotaur with Bacchus in her arms. Unfortunately for the priests, Ambrus was in the room as well.

First it was words, the priests demanding from Theseus that the older minotaur be punished for daring to breed, especially with their women. Ambrus arguing, warning them if they should continue. Nothing Theseus said would calm him or the priests. One made the mistake of drawing a knife and approaching the bed, intending to 'cleanse the mistake'. And despite his warnings, everyone else in the room was shocked when Ambrus grabbed that foolish man by the arm, removing the limb before smashing the head to the stone floor.

Isandro barely made it into the room in time to stop his brother from killing the last two priests and their father. The room was covered with blood, corpses littering the floor in pieces. Callidora was curled on the bed, holding Bacchus's face to her chest so he would not see while burying her face into the crown of his head to blind herself of the sight as well. Only by mentioning how much he was scaring Callidora and Bacchus was Ambrus calmed by his brother.

Now, though, due to the murder of the priests, his affair with a priestess now well known, Ambrus was imprisoned while the Court decided his fate. And this time, no words from Theseus would change their minds.

Not wanting more bloodshed, Isandro took Callidora and Bacchus under his protection while the fate of his brother was being decided. So long as he was around, no one would harm his nephew. And he knew that the surviving priests would try as soon as they have a chance. Not to mention they could find his own son as well. The other mothers managed to make themselves impossible for the priests to reach, protecting their children from death.

He stared out the window to the dark night sky, the moon hidden by shadow and the stars flickering brightly without a care. Cyrus approached him, placing a hand on his arm gently to ask for his attention. He looked down at his lover, blue connecting with blue.

"He only did what he thought he needed to do," Cyrus told him softly. "Must he truly die for it? His child was threatened. And I know you would do the same if it were us instead of them."

A huff slipped out before Isandro could stop it. "I would," he agreed. "But how can I even begin to help my brother?"

"You will find a way," the blond said, nuzzling Isandro's shoulder with his forehead. "Because that is who you are."

He left the young minotaur's side, returning to bed where Yevgeni whimpered lightly in his sleep. Soothing the babe back into a restful slumber, Cyrus soon followed him, leaving Isandro to his thoughts.

Cyrus was right. And he knew it.

Silently, he slipped from the room, his destination in mind. The guards did not stop him, believing him only visiting. Perhaps a final good-bye before the inevitable execution. Isandro soon found himself outside of the cell that his brother sat in. Dark eyes stared at him, almost empty.

Isandro returned his brother's gaze then traced the wall behind him. "These cells were never made to hold us," he commented. "Only humans. Sad day it is that one of us is held back by such weak walls."

"Perhaps because one of us deserves to be held by these walls," Ambrus replied lowly, turning his head away from his brother.

"Deserves? Yes," Isandro agreed. "But is it right for that one to be here when all he was doing was protecting his child and the woman he loves? No. You warned them, brother. You warned _him._ They did not listen. You reacted in the defense of your family." He shook his head slowly. "Would you leave them all so willingly? Would you leave Callidora and Bacchus so easily? What of Damali and Theron? Iole and Nicanor? Or even Skylla and Abiron? I cannot protect them all, brother. I am not as strong as you."

For a moment, only silence was passed between them. Then Ambrus looked back to him, his gaze dark. "Such a shame indeed that these weak walls do hold me back," he commented.

Isandro left him after that. He returned to his bed, curled around his lover and son, Callidora in the bed across the room with Bacchus held to her breast.

The next morning, the two were gone, as were the other mothers and their minotaur children. The most distressing news that traveled the palace, though, was the large hole in the wall of the cell that once held in Ambrus. Guards mentioned seeing him charging at them, then nothing. Thankfully, he did not kill anyone.

As soldiers searched through the kingdom, Isandro watched from a higher view, his arms crossed and his shoulder against a pillar. That is how Theseus found him. "You know nothing of his escape?" he asked him, approaching his side.

"He was only there because he was protecting his own," Isandro pointed out. "It would seem that he is not done protecting them."

"Isandro, if you know anything at all-"

"I do not," the younger minotaur answered. "I was asleep when Callidora and Bacchus were taken. You know as well as I do that if Ambrus does not wish to be found, he won't be." He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful. "Perhaps one day, I will follow after him."

"You cannot mean-" Theseus started but was once again cut off.

"So long as my family is here, I will remain and I will stay as Guardian of Athens," he assured the king.

"I am glad to hear it," Theseus sighed, believing that Isandro would stay even when he is gone and Hippolytus takes the throne.

"You fail to understand me, your Majesty," Isandro said plainly, ignoring the momentary startle the king showed. Though all the years, Isandro never called him by title. The closest he ever got as 'sire' and that was when others were around. "So long as _my_ family is here, I will stay. Should Cyrus decide that he wishes to leave Athens, I will take him and all of our children and we will leave." Pushing himself from the pillar, Isandro started to walk away, but paused. "Permission to speak freely, your Majesty?"

"You do not need it, Isandro," Theseus told him, wondering what had changed his son's view of him so easily.

"Any good warrior should ask their king for permission," he said looking over his shoulder. "I only wanted to say this. All Ambrus wanted was to be acknowledged as your son. You did not need to make a public speech or announce it to the world. Just to him." A heavy sigh slipped from him. "Maybe if you did, he would have been different."

Theseus was silent, watching as his middle child walk away from him. "Perhaps," he muttered lowly. The slight flick of Isandro's ear was the only sign that he was even heard by anyone but himself.

 **Change Here**

The years crawled by. Isandro watched his brother grow into a strong boy, not quite a man yet, but no longer a child. Theseus remarried to a woman named Phaedra, apparently a daughter of Minos. Isandro never did understand why he married her considering how much Theseus despised Minos. The only reason he could think of was a political maneuver.

Cyrus bore him two more sons, both minotaur. Their second born almost looked just like Isandro, the only exception being the tuff of lighter hair on his arms and on the crown of his head. He was smaller than Yevgeni when he was born, and both were worried he would not make it. Hyperion did survive and followed his older brother around all the time while helping watch over the youngest. Gergo was nearly all blonde, the only exception was the hair on his wrists and ankles being darker. Isandro truly could not blame Cyrus for saying no more children. The three were enough of a handful.

His thoughts often strayed to his missing brother and his family. How did Ambrus even think he could handle four women and four children? Isandro himself was having difficulty keeping his three in line. As it was often pointed out during their years of growing, Isandro is the responsible one.

A shuffle dragged him from his thoughts, causing him to turn. Hyperion stood behind him, light blue eyes staring at him worriedly.

"Is something wrong, son?" he asked.

"King Theseus exiled Prince Hippolytus," Hyperion told him lowly. As Theseus wanted, none of Isandro's children knew about Theseus being their grandparent. Though he did eventually admit to Cyrus then made him swear to keep it secret.

Isandro snorted in surprise at the news. "The reason?"

"Queen Phaedra hung herself," he answered. "She left a note that the Prince tried to rape her."

The older minotaur shook his head in disbelief. "And of course he believes his dead wife over his living son," he grumbled, arms crossed over his chest. "If he were not so blind, he would see how she would pursue his son. I wonder how long Prince Hippolytus will be in the world before the king realizes the truth."

A low whine from Hyperion told Isandro enough of his thoughts. "Mother wants to leave," his son stated, looking up at him worriedly. "What would the world think of us? How long can we live out there?"

Isandro chuckled. "We shall see," he replied. "Perhaps we shall find your uncle and cousins in our travels."

Hyperion tilted his head, eyes half-lidded. "That would be nice," he commented, looking back up at his father. He may have never met his Uncle Ambrus or any of his cousins, but he had grown up hearing stories of the two brothers and the antics they got up to. "When do we leave?"

"Soon, my son. Soon."

"Does the king know yet?"

A quirk of his lips was all Isandro offered. Understanding the answer without a word, Hyperion nodded then left to locate his brothers. Or at least Gergo before he caused another mess. He was only twelve, but the youngest still managed to cause simple accidents that turned into large messes. The fourteen-year-old will never understand, and his seventeen-year-old brother was no help in that regard.

Night soon fell. The three were roused from their sleep, packed belongings collected. Within a couple of hours, a ship left the dock, carrying four minotaurs and only a handful of humans.

When the sun rose over Athens, Theseus woke to find his last child gone.

 **Change Here**

For some reason, Isandro felt drawn to Crete. Perhaps it was because it was the birthplace of his sire, the origin of their bloodline. Perhaps Poseidon was simply calling them back. When the ship let them go, along with an extra that Yevgeni found himself attracted to during their voyage, it was to the forest of the island. They did not know where they were going, nor anything about the land. But something drew at not only himself, but his sons as well.

It wasn't until a group of rogue centaurs attacked them that they would out why. Isandro and his two older sons fought the four-legged beasts. Two centaurs now dead and another with a lame leg. The others held back, attacking with arrows and spears until one was cut into with a large blade. The others scattered, as though knowing the group was now more dangerous with the newcomer.

Isandro stared in surprise at the black minotaur wielding the large sword with ease. Dark eyes blinked back at him in surprise. "By Poseidon," the other muttered. "Uncle Isandro! Aunt Cyrus!"

"Bacchus," Isandro spoke in a low tone, as though afraid that his nephew was not truly in front of him. Then recalled what his nephew called Cyrus and blamed Ambrus for that.

"Cousin?" Yevgeni called.

"Yevgeni, look at you all grown up!" Bacchus returned boisterously. "Good to see you again. Father will be glad. Come on, he'll be happy to see all of you!"

 **Here the Chapter Ends**

 **So to sum up the ending because this chapter is long enough. And it will be explained a bit more in later chapters.**

 **The brothers reunite. The cousins' meet for the first time since the eldest were babies. Yes, Yevgeni found himself a love interest on the boat. I will let your imagination go from there as to name and appearance. Have fun!**

 **So the minotaurs are back on Crete and that is where they stayed. They eventually broke up into separate herds, which I will explain about in later chapters. I was playing with the idea that they kept having children with other humans that found their way to their homes, then the wizards found them because as time changed, creature regulations happened and they're trying to keep tabs on the populations. One thing I would like known now so no questions about it later: NO RAPING EVER HAPPENED.**

 **So wizards do know about them. Most don't go out of their way to find them. But some have joined into the families, so the minotaurs have their own way of keeping track of everybody and how they're related. Again, explained later. Probably a poor explanation, but later.**

 **That is one idea as to how they kept going, and another is that they mated with other creatures. Ones that can either take a human form or are half human themselves, Kind of playing with that idea. May blend both because both sound good to me. Kind of like the idea of a nymph being with a minotaur.**

 **Anyway, end of the beginning and now we get to bring in Harry Potter! Next Chapter!**

 **Hope everyone is enjoying the story this far. Thanks for the support!**

 **Names and meanings (As I found them online):**

 **Isandro's Sons: (Cyrus is mother to all three)**

 **1- Yevgeni – of noble descent**

 **2- Hyperion – one who goes over**

 **3- Gergo – awake/watchful**

 **Ambrus's Sons:**

 **1- Bacchus – make a loud noise (Mother is Callidora)**

 **2- Theron – huntsman (Mother is Damali)**

 **3- Nicanor – victory (Mother is Iole)**

 **4- Abiron – my father is exalted (Mother is Skylla)**

 **Women:**

 **1- Damali - calf**

 **2- Iole – violet**

 **3- Skylla – tear and rend**

 **4- Eurybia – wide force**

 **5- Kalypso – she who conceals, Atlas's daughter, sea nymph**

 **6- Nerine – daughter of Nereus, sea sprite, wet one (that comment Ambrus made about her fitting her name? Yeah.)**

 **The only names that will play a semi-important role later on are the names of the sons.**


	3. Harry Arrives

**So! If you have made it this far, have followed me this far, then that means only one thing… You like this story! Yay!**

 **Hey, let me tell you something. I wanna write a Walking Dead/ Harry Potter story but have no clue how to go about it. So don't expect it any time soon because I cannot come up with an original idea. I swear they have all been used up and are at the point of re-use!**

 **So back to this story. Yay, we're bringing in Harry! And before anyone says anything about Isandro following his brother to the point of finding him again last chapter, keep this in mind. These two were the only minotaurs alive their whole lives until their lovers started getting pregnant. Even then, they still depended on each other to watch the other's back. Brothers. What you gonna do?**

 **On with the story!**

 **And yes, I am making every Minotaur born a male. Deal.**

 **And do not expect all chapters to be as long as the previous ones. This is not 'Pray'! And don't get me started on 'Pray'. If you have read it, I am working on it! Slowly…very, very, very slowly…**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Greek Mythology or Harry Potter. I would like to claim Argyros, though. And Zenon. Can I? Please? (pouting-pleading face)**

 **Here the Chapter Starts**

There is one fact that Vernon Dursley, husband to Petunia Dursley and father to Dudley Dursley, would proudly brag. He and his family are perfectly normal. He holds a very steady job at Grunnings selling drills, in line for promotion, even. His lovely wife mingles with the other ladies of their neighborhood, learning the coming and goings of the neighbors. Who to accept and who to reject. And their son is just like any other growing boy. He can never have enough food. He's a growing boy, after all! He does well in school, even being accepted into Smeltings and his friends are perfect young men that will eventually find perfect brides, just like his and his wife's darling boy will as well.

There is one black spot, though. And while he can brag that it was not on his side, thank goodness for that, it is now in his family. His sister-in-law, Lily Potter, was a witch. His wife's sister had tainted blood then ran off with some 'lord' or whatever that Potter fellow was and bred. Now they have gone and blown themselves up and the result of their despicable breeding is living under _his_ roof.

Harry Potter. A small boy, fragile due to years of rightfully earned neglect and starvation. Too stupid to know his own name. Too tainted to allow him near his own son, thus the reason for him being thrown into the cupboard. The scrawny, ungrateful brat did not even deserve the kindness they have shown him. They clothed him, fed him, kept a roof over his head. And he still uses his unnatural freakishness.

Oh, the freak can say he did not know how he ended up on the roof of the school or that he didn't mean to turn his teacher's hair blue or how he had even done such things, but Vernon knows. Oh, yes. The boy may act the clueless fool well, but Vernon Dursley is no fool. He knows the boy is using his freakishness on purpose and only hopes that he is stupid enough to believe the boy has no control what-so-ever.

The only punishment that would work on him was to throw him into his cupboard, occupy him with a list of chores while Petunia mingles and Vernon works. His laziness was punishable by food being withdrawn. If the little freak will not stop his antics and get off his lazy arse, then he would get more food and not be locked away so often. If the boy were only normal!

Though the mindset of the boy in question is completely different. For the poor, hungry child locked in his dark cupboard cannot understand the intense hatred his relatives harbor for him. He nursed his thin and bruised arm, trying not to cry and whimper at the pain that would reach as far as his neck at every little move.

Green eyes blinked back tears ready to fall as knobby knees tucked into his bony chest. The old, worn shirt slipped off his shoulder, exposing old scars from previous punishments involving a belt on his back. Mucus dripped from his nose, causing him to remove his uninjured arm from the bruised one to wipe the snot from his face. Another whimper was bit back by teeth digging into his bottom lip as he cradled the injured arm once more.

Why did they hate him? What did he do wrong? He didn't mean to burn the bacon this morning and he tried to pull all the weeds out of the garden before Uncle Vernon returned from work. And his arm hurt too much to be of proper use when he was made to make dinner, not receiving even a crumb and was hit again for burning the meat and serving them nearly raw veggies, though little amount they were. He was not even thanked for dusting the furniture and pictures, cleaning the bathrooms, or even for organizing Dudley's second bedroom once again. He may not have finished his list, but he still thought that was enough for a 'Good job' at the least.

But none came. Only smacks, a rough grab to bruise his arm, and fresh whips marks on his back. No food in his belly once again. Only that sip of water from this morning that he managed to sneak when cleaning the bathroom.

Falling to his bed, he buried his face into the thin cot, his thread-bare blanket balled up to be a makeshift pillow with no true volume to it for comfort. And just like many nights before, he wished. He wished he had died in that accident that killed his parents. At least he would be with them, wherever they were. He wished to be somewhere safe, loved, and taken care of. Some place where his freakishness would not make others hurt him.

Unknown to him, his wishes had been heard by a very powerful entity. A creature that had heard his pleas for years and is now finally able to reach the poor child. Gently brushing the thin, pale skin of the abused child, the entity healed his wounds and removed his scars. The only one that resisted it was the one on the child's forehead. Oh well. It will be dealt with in time. For now, though, the entity had to get him somewhere safe.

After all, he has a destiny to fulfill. Someone to love and be loved by in return. A family that does want him and will protect him. But not here. Not with these disgusting monsters that dare call themselves humans or even 'normal'. They will pay for hurting such a sweet, innocent child. They will pay and he will thrive.

But first, he must be taken to his new family.

 **Change Here**

Brown eyes blinked open, clearing away the blur of sleep from sight. A large hand rubbed the forehead, the heel of the palm digging into the eye to knock the cluster of gunk from the corner. The mouth opened wide in a yawn as the large form rose from the bed, head shaking slightly.

"Uncle Zenon!" a young, cheerful voice called out before a blur of silver ran into his cavern, colliding into his leg with a tight hold. The small minotaur looked up at him, grinning widely with gleaming yellow eyes.

Zenon, a minotaur of thirty-two years, looked down at his eight-year-old nephew, rubbing the nubs were just starting to grow horns. His own coat was more of a glossy brown, as some described him to be. Though when the sun hit him just right, he would look golden. His horns only grew a foot out before pointing upwards and curling out another few inches.

"Argyros, what are you doing here so early in the morning?" he asked the young minotaur, voice still groggy from being freshly awaken.

"Just wanted to say 'good morning'!" Argyros exclaimed happily, hugging his uncle's leg once more before letting him go and leaving the cavern.

Zenon sighed with a shake of his head, silently cursing his younger brother for mating with a wood nymph. The hyperness of her species seemed to have passed on into their son, who thought it fun to constantly visit his loving uncle. Especially early in the morning. He loves his nephew, but sometimes the child was too hyper for him.

It was not as though he was without experience, however short lived. He helped raise his brother, after all. Yet not a child of his own. His family perished years ago. Or perhaps the more accurate term would be murdered. By humans.

His mate was a beautiful woman, a siren that drew him to her like so many of her species drew in sailors. She had no desire to harm him, and he had none for her. Fractious at first, they grew close over the following three years until she told him the joyous news of her pregnancy. All of that was snatched away within a moment of fire and thunder. He stilled carried the scars of his failure.

Many believed he would hate humans for the murder of his mate and unborn. He did not. He did not believe the entire species deserved his hatred for the actions of a few. After all, some of the other minotaurs in the herd and in other herds had humans for mates. He knows not all are bad. Not all wished harm upon them.

Jerking himself from such dark thoughts, Zenon took his weapons from their place and left his cavern. It took many years, but their ancestors managed to create homes out of the surrounding rock. Caves were made deeper, new caverns formed. As their numbers grew, so did the cave. Some even built their own homes outside of the stone, huts scattered over the valley of their territory.

He spotted some of the other hunters ready to leave, a few of them for their very first hunt. Sending a silent prayer to the gods that they would not get too eager and only bring the anger of certain humans down on them, Zenon joined the hunting party. Areas were assigned, sons stayed with fathers, and they split up.

At first, the hunting was like any other day. Ears perked for any sound, twigs snapping or leaves rustling. His eyes would find tracks, only to show they were hours old and decided it was best to look for fresher tracks. It wasn't any different until he heard sniffling from a bush.

Eyes narrowed, he thought for a moment that perhaps one of the calves had gotten lost in the forest. Or maybe it was a lost human. In the case of a human, he probably should leave it alone, otherwise risk exposure and other humans attacking out of fear, but could not bring himself to do it.

Placing his bow in its proper place, he slowly approached the bush, not wanting to startle to obvious young one hiding behind the leaves and branches. Kneeling on the ground, he gently pushed some branches away, earning a gasp from the small human boy, emerald eyes wide in shock and fear. The child's dark wild hair was dirty with leaves and drying dirt, his face, hands, feet, and knees covered with mud. His breathing picked up, his fear evident.

"Easy," Zenon said lowly, holding out his hand. "It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you."

The human child swallowed thickly a couple times, his head swinging from side to side before his eyes finally locked onto Zenon's. He saw no anger or hatred, only concern. Slowly, his green eyes trailed down the strange creature's face, down the neck, then thick shoulder and arm to the open hand. A low whimper slipped out but he shakily put his hand in the much larger one. It was warm to the touch, the coat of the palm thin but coarse.

"That's it," Zenon encouraged. "You're okay." Still frightened, the child rose to his feet with Zenon's help before he gently led the boy from the bush. He took in the appearance of the human child. His clothes hung off of him and his bones were protruding from starvation. He fought back the rumble of anger in his chest. "What is your name? And where are your parents, young one?"

For a moment, he thought the child either could not speak or could not understand him. Then pink lips parted. "Harry," he replied, his voice barely a whisper. "What are you?"

A soft chuckle did slip out. "My name is Zenon, and I am a minotaur," he answered. "Your parents?"

Harry's feet shuffled, toes digging into the dirt. "They're dead."

That would explain a lot as to his appearance, but not why he is here. In Crete. And while Zenon is no expert on accents, the child does have a different one. "How did you get here?" he asked.

Harry stared at the ground, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know," he whispered, looking around himself once again. "Where am I?"

"Crete. Where were you before?"

"In my cupboard. At my aunt and uncle's house."

The rumble rose once again, Zenon turning his head away so his snarl wouldn't scare the child. Harry flinched anyway. Taking in deep breaths for a few minutes to calm himself, he finally turned back to the boy. He was in someone else's care and is still in such poor shape. Perhaps it is better he is here.

"I do not know where they are," he told him firmly. "And they better be glad I don't. For right now, Harry, you should come with me. The wilds of Crete are not always filled with friendly folk."

Slowly moving his arm to wrap around the child, he watched for any sign that the boy would panic and run. Doing nothing was a good a sign as any, he supposed. He picked the child up, cradling him with his arm while Harry wrapped his tiny arms around Zenon's neck. Once sure the boy would not fall, Zenon started his trek back home. No bounty from his hunt, but with a priceless treasure instead.

 **Change Here**

Harry sat straight in front of the much older minotaur, green eyes wide in attention. Zenon stood behind him, offering comfort with his presence alone. Many had stared upon their arrival, but Zenon had ignored all of them in favor of this elderly one.

His coat was a dull red, face white with age, gray hairs dotting his coat. His horns were dull and chipped. The thin hair on his hands showed wrinkled skin. Bags hung under his eyes, from either age or lack of sleep was unknown. Perhaps both. Longer hairs hung from his chin and jawline as though they were part of a beard, each strand just as white as the face.

"Who is this child, Zenon?" he asked, his voice raspy.

"His name is Harry, I found him in the woods during my hunt," Zenon supplied, looking down at the slight trembling form of the child. "He does not know how he arrived here."

The elderly minotaur hummed lowly, milky eyes trying to take in the boy's appearance. "Come closer, child," he said. "My sight is not what it was in my youth."

Harry stood, looking back at Zenon who nodded encouragingly at him, then took small steps to the much older minotaur. Arm length from the large creature, Harry stopped. A low exhale passed through the nostrils of the elder as nearly blind eyes observed.

For a moment, silence. Others gathered at the entrance to the elder minotaur's hut, no one uttering a word as they watched. A grunt was sounded before the old minotaur nodded his head. "A fine child," he muttered. "Pure in spirit. But raised by hatred out of his own control. Cursed by madness at the death of his parents. Oh, you poor child."

"What does that mean, Elder Taras?" Zenon asked.

"As I said," Taras replied. "The hatred that raised him was not because of what he can do. But because of what he has. Jealously or fear will always fuel the fires of hate and rage. The madness that cursed him is only a spectral, for now. Though it has left its mark upon him."

"I don't understand," Harry whispered, then flinched as though afraid he would be struck for speaking.

Elder Taras only chuckled lightly. "You will when you are older," he told him gently with a nod of his head. "But sooner than you would like. For now, you need someone to take care of you. Zenon, will you take responsibility for this child?"

"Yes, Elder Taras," Zenon replied immediately.

"Good. Then it is settled. And should humans try to reclaim the child?"

"I won't let them unless it be Harry's wish."

Nodding in acceptance, Taras looking to Harry. "Zenon will take care of you now, child. You are in no safer hands. When you are well enough, you shall learn our ways."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, lowering his head.

Zenon nodded to the older minotaur before scooping Harry back into his arms. The crowd outside the Elder's hut either returned to their previous duties or simply stepped back to allow them to pass but still get a closer look at the child. Harry stared back at them wide-eyed, his gaze holding his disbelief at seeing supposedly mythical creatures around him.

"Am I dreaming?" he whispered low enough for only Zenon to hear. "Or did I die?"

"Neither," Zenon replied just as low.

"But…magic isn't real," the child supplied, stating it as though it were a fact of life. "Monsters aren't real."

"We're not monsters," Zenon chuckled, rubbing the boy's back soothingly. "Perhaps to most humans we are. But not all of us are. Just like there are good and bad humans, there are good and bad creatures. As for magic, it is very real. It is in everything, after all."

"No it's not," Harry argued then ducked his head down in fright.

Zenon read to motion for what it was. Preparation for an act that the boy had grown accustom to. Not only was he starved and locked in a cupboard, if his earlier comment was anything to go by, but beaten as well. The child carries many scars.

Slowly, but surely, he will heal this boy. "Yes it is," he playfully argued back with a small smile, showing the boy that he was not going to take the previous comment seriously. "Everywhere you look."

Hesitantly, Harry looked back up at the minotaur carrying him. "Like what?" he asked.

"Simply things," Zenon pointed out, his eyes going over the trees. "It's in the wind and the grass. In the trees and the sun. It is in the animals that we see every day." A low hum in thought before he smiled at the boy. "Ever seen a tadpole?"

Harry shook his head. He didn't get to go on family outings to the park with the pond. The only time he saw outside was when his chores took him there. Or when he was going to school and back.

"Well tadpoles are tiny little bodies with only a thin little tail to help them swim and gills to breathe underwater," Zenon explained. "But as they grow older, their tails shrink. Legs grow from their bodies. Soon, even their gills disappear and are replaced by lungs. They turn into frogs."

"That's magic?" the child asked skeptically.

"Well humans may argue against it," Zenon shrugged uncaringly. "But think about this for a moment. You fell asleep in your cupboard, right?" Seeing Harry nod in response, he looked around. "Then how did you get here to Crete?"

Looking around as well, Harry could only shrug his shoulders.

"Magic."

"Was it magic when I turned my teacher's hair blue?" Harry asked then slapped his hand over his mouth.

"It must have been," he chuckled, ignoring the act. "Have you ever done anything else?"

"I was running from my cousin Dudley and his friends, then I was on top of the school's roof," the boy recalled almost hesitantly.

The minotaur hummed an affirmative then smirked down at the child. "Magic," he stated with a sing-song tone.

Harry giggled, a small smile stretching across his lips and his cheeks brightened a little. Zenon decided then and there that the child was adorable with such a smile. He could already see himself fighting back some of his distant cousins when Harry grows older. If the boy decides to stay with the herd. His own smile nearly fell at the thought. Only knowing the child for a couple hours and he was already dreading the idea of Harry wanting to leave one day.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

Shaking his head, Zenon answered, "Nothing." He blinked a couple times the looked down at the boy inquiringly. "Harry, how old are you?"

"I'm six, almost seven," the boy answered, startling the minotaur once more. It should be expected that his growth is slightly stunted due to his malnutrition, but Zenon thought that boy was closer to five at first sight. Yet he spoke too clearly for a five-year-old.

"You know, I think I know just the right person for you to be best friends with," he commented.

Harry's eyes grew wide before he clung to the large minotaur. "Please don't get rid of me!" he begged. "I promise I won't do anything freakish! I promise!"

"I won't, I promise," he assured the child, worried about that reaction out of the previous ones. For him to jump to such a conclusion, he must have truly grown up completely unloved and belittled, brainwashed into believing no one would want him. "Harry, I'm not getting rid of you. And there is nothing freakish about you. You have a very special gift that few are blessed with. It is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Promise you won't leave me?" Harry whimpered, looking up into a caring brown gaze.

"Cross my heart," he offered. "I just thought you would appreciate a friend closer to your own age to play with."

"A friend? My own friend?" Green eyes blinked, allowing small tears to slide down shallow cheeks.

"Yes, I think you two will be best of friends," the minotaur reassured with a soft smile as he approached the hut of his brother.

Unlike Zenon, his younger brother Atlas preferred to live outside the caves. He enjoyed the fresh air and the smell of the greenery over the sight of stone. He was also quite adventurous until he met Kyma. Though she did show him more of the forest, the two finally settled down in a hut, became mates, and had Argyros. It only took them four years to reach the 'settle down' point of their lives, but only because they were still young enough to enjoy it.

Outside the hut, Kyma was tending to her own little garden, coaxing the flowers to bloom and seeming to talk to the trees. Argyros followed her as she drifted from flower to flower, ears perked as though he could hear voices from the colorful plants as well. Yet unlike his mother, he didn't answer back.

Kyma was dressed in a long gown make of willow vines, blue wildflowers decorating her shoulders and hips. Her long chocolate hair was wavy and wild, seemingly tangled at first glance, but was still carried by the wind without showing a single knot. Her feet were bare, as many of her race so choose because they claim anything on their feet would disconnect them from the Mother.

Her nimble fingers were caressing the stalk under a particular pink bud, her voice light as she encouraged the petals to open. Slowly, as though the plant was wanting to but afraid to do so, the petals unfurled from their closed position. Once opened completely, Kyma smiled and congratulated the pink rose on waking.

Argyros was the first to notice the older minotaur, though. "Uncle Zenon!" the calf cried out happily, running over to Zenon and grabbing his leg once more.

"Hello again, Argyros," Zenon greeted, still holding Harry. He wanted to be sure that his hyper nephew knew that, while Harry could become his friend, the human child is more fragile than a minotaur calf and his strength could hurt the boy. "Kyma. Tending to the flowers again?"

"Yes," she giggled, almost prancing over to her mate's brother.

Harry watched in wonder as her feet seemed to never touch the ground, the blades of grass barely moving from her prance. How did she do that?

"And who is this cutie?" she cooed, leaning to Harry.

Her skin was fair, only a light dusting of freckles across her nose. Her eyes were as green as the grass, traces of pink around her pupils. Her lips were pulled up into a welcoming smile, almost revealing her pearly white teeth.

"My new charge," Zenon answered when Harry didn't. "I found him this morning."

"Oh! You must be Harry, then!" she chirped.

Zenon quirked a brow in question. Harry gapped at her in surprise. Her own son only looked at her in confusion. "How did you know my name?" the human child asked.

"The Mother told me," she stated as though Harry would know who 'the Mother' even is.

He didn't. And only blinked, thinking for a moment that despite the fact she is a very pretty lady, maybe she's crazy.

Argyros released the grip he had on his uncle so he could see the human better. "Hi!" he greeted with an excited wave of his hand.

"Hi," Harry returned shyly, pressing himself more into Zenon's chest.

"I'm Argyros! Was Mama right? Is your name Harry? I'm eight! How old are you?"

The boy nodded. "I'm six, but I'll be seven soon."

"Wow, we're almost the same age! Hey, wanna be friends?"

Before Harry could answer, Zenon grabbed the attention of his nephew. "Now, Argyros, you should understand something first," he started. "You are a minotaur. Even at eight, you are very strong. Harry is a human. And he is not very healthy right now."

"Is Harry sick?" Argyros interrupted in worry. "Mama can make him better! She makes all kinds of medicine! It's nasty but it will make him feel better!"

"No, he's not sick," Kyma giggled to her child, kneeling down to his level. "But the Mother said he was not with very nice people. He was very hungry for a very long time. And he worked as hard as your father when he fixes things around the hut. And went hungry for even longer."

"Then he needs to eat!" Argyros decided, about to turn and run to grab a fruit for Harry.

Zenon grabbed him before he could go more than two steps, though. "Argyros," he called gently but firmly. Harry giggled at the young minotaur's antics. "The point is that right now, Harry is not that strong. If you are too rough with him, you may hurt him. So until he gets his strength back, you be gentle when playing with him. Even when he is completely healthy, you need to be careful. Understand?"

"I understand, Uncle!" Argyros exclaimed then bolted for the nearest plant that grew food. Plucking a bundle of grapes from their vine, he ran back over and held it up. Kyma giggled behind her hand. "Here, Harry! You should eat these! They're really good!"

Zenon looked to Harry. Once the child looked back at him, he used his eyes to gesture to Argyros in question. Giving the minotaur a nod, Harry was placed down in front of Zenon. Argyros smiled down at him, still holding the grapes out for the younger child to take.

Harry took the bundle. "Thank you," he softly said then pulled one from the bundle and cautiously slipping it into his mouth, prepared for it to be snatched away before he could take the bite. Once in the cavern, he nearly jumped at the flood of grape juice after he bit down on it. The skin was crisp, the flesh of the fruit soft, and the juice sweet. Chewing a couple more bites, he swallowed that grape before smiling to Argyros. "It's really good."

Grinning broadly, Argyros nodded in agreement. "Mama grows them! She's a wood nymph so she's really good at growing plants!" He leaned closer to Harry, holding his hand to the side of his mouth like he was going to reveal a secret. "You should try one of her apples. They're super sweet!"

Harry looked at him in confusion before looking up at the pretty lady, then to Zenon, and then back to Argyros. "If she's your mama, why are you a mi-no-taur like Zenon?"

Kyma smiled up at Zenon, who only looked at her with a glance that told her to not say anything. Harry's too young. Or maybe she was smiling at the careful pronunciation of 'minotaur', finding it very cute. He could not blame her.

Argyros only laughed. "Because my Daddy's a minotaur!" he answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Daddy and Uncle Zenon are brothers."

"Where is your daddy?" Harry asked, nervously looking around. Though the minotaurs looked different, he couldn't find one that looked similar to Argyros. Or Zenon.

Argyros shrugged his shoulders. "Probably out at the river," he supplied, though was not sure himself.

"Argyros, my sweet, why don't you show little Harry around the garden?" Kyma suggested with a small smile, her cheek on her palm.

"Okay, Mama!" the silver child agreed before taking Harry's hand in his. "Come on, Harry. You can try more of Mama's fruits! But don't touch the veggies. They're icky!"

"They're healthy for growing young bulls like you," Zenon pointed out, nudging his nephew with his hoof. "Maybe Harry should eat some as well so he's just as healthy and strong."

Argyros laughed, dragging Harry away from the adults and into the garden. Harry looked over his shoulder as he was dragged, but a nod of Zenon's head and a smile on his lips, the boy went along with the hyper calf.

Leaning towards his brother's mate, he muttered lowly, "Sometimes, I think he was sired by someone in the Bacchus Herd."

She swatted his arm, earning a chuckle from her love's brother. "Yet he is of the Yevgeni," she pointed out happily.

Zenon hummed in agreement then looked down at her with a serious gaze. "If the Mother brought him here, what did she say to you about him?" he asked.

Wood nymphs were more notorious for caring for the forests and plants, much like the Dryads. Not many knew of their true connection with the Mother, generally associating them with Goddesses like Persephone and Artemis.

Kyma turned her faltering smile to him. "Young Harry has a great destiny to fulfill," she stated. "Where he was, he would not survive to complete it. She heard his cries for love and family, but was unable to reach him. Finally she did and she brought him here. She brought him to you, Zenon. Because she knows you will protect him as though he was your own blood. Because you will be the father and mentor he needs. Because we are the family he craves." She turned back to the boys, Argyros showing Harry a young pear tree that had yet to support ripe fruit. "He has her gift."

"I thought as much," he muttered. "The wizards will try to come for him when he is a bit older. Won't they?"

"Yes," the nymph answered with a sad nod before brightening. "But he won't be alone."

Quirking an eyebrow, he turned his attention to the two children. Harry was trying to reach for a pear but was unable to grasp it. Argyros saw his dilemma and lifted him off the ground high enough for Harry to grab the fruit.

"They're not ripe yet, children," Kyma pointed out before Harry could pull the fruit from its spot.

"I'm sorry," Harry offered, ducking his head down as his fingers released the fat body of the green pear.

"Sorry, Mama!" Argyros called back, still holding Harry.

In that instant, Zenon knew Kyma was, once again, completely right.

 **Change Here**

Weeks passed peacefully. No humans came to take Harry away. Some of the human mates of the herd showed Harry things they believed he should know, a few teaching him how to control his magic. Though it did act up once in a while, the bouts were not overly damaging or disastrous. The first few times his magic accidentally acted, Harry did panic, thinking he would be punished.

He was mad at a few of the older calves for teasing him. Zenon managed to convince him that the treatment of his relatives was very wrong and Harry did not deserve any of it. It wasn't his fault. Yet these calves teased his small stature and weak body.

Argyros, being the protective calf that he is, charged the leader of the group to the ground. They started to wrestle with the others trying to either jump in or split them up. One was about to hit the silver calf and Harry's magic reacted. The slightly older bull was thrown back a few feet by seemingly nothing.

Of course Harry panicked. Argyros called for Zenon because he didn't know what to do. He did calm the child and assure him that he did nothing wrong. The older calves did get a very stern talking to from their parents, as well as being grounded for a week, for picking on the human child.

The more times his magic acted up, the more used to it he became. He still got scared if his magic reacted and hurt someone, but most of the time, it reacted harmlessly. At one point, he turned Argyros's coat pink when he was trying to make it grow out. They laughed about it, but Harry was very embarrassed. Especially when Argyros ran to his parents to show off his new coloring.

Atlas, a minotaur almost the size of Zenon with a golden coat and black eyes, nearly choked on his wine when his son came running in as pink as his Kyma's roses. Kyma, of course, only laughed when she saw Harry smiling sheepishly at them. Zenon simply looked at his brother in amusement. Argyros did turn back to his normal silver-white coat. Eventually.

And though the years under the care of his relatives did stunt his growth, Harry was not as small as Zenon feared he would be. He did regain his strength and come out of his shell, becoming a healthy child that would try to interact with others. His height, while still short by what the other humans say for a boy his age, was nothing too concerning as he was gaining slowly.

Then Zenon took him to the side one day. It was time Harry learned something that the Wizarding World forgot, but the creatures of the land had engraved into their very souls. The boy had heard many mention the Mother, but Zenon wanted to wait until he was certain Harry could handle a few hours out in the forest first. Now certain that he can, it was time he learned of Her. He will learn of the other gods soon enough, but he at the least had to learn about the Mother. After all, without her, the gods would never had come into existence in the first place.

"So who is the Mother?" Harry asked, looking down from his position on Zenon's shoulder, the minotaur's hand on his side to ensure he didn't fall. "And where are we going?"

"Patience, son. We're almost there," Zenon replied with a smirk.

Harry smiled at the title Zenon gifted him. He slipped one day and accidentally called the minotaur 'Dad'. Instead of being upset about it, Zenon only smiled and called him 'son' in return.

They finally reached the tree line, a crystal clear pond proudly taking up most of the space in the clearing. Glimmers of reflected light showed the fish swimming lazily in the calm water. A gentle breeze brushed the two visitors before caressing the water's surface.

"Pretty," Harry whispered in awe.

"Indeed," the minotaur chuckled, lifting Harry from his shoulder before placing him on the ground. "It is a good place. You can almost hear Her."

"The Mother?" Harry inquired, tearing his gaze from the clean water to his minotaur father.

"Yes," he replied with a nod as he lowered to the ground. "Sit." The boy sat next to Zenon with his legs crossed and hands holding his ankles. "Now the first thing you must know about the Mother is that she is everywhere."

"Like God?" Harry asked, remembering back to his time with the Dursleys. His aunt mentioned God before, then insulted Harry by saying he was an abomination undeserving of the mighty being's love and guidance.

"Yes and no," the minotaur went on. "Some humans believe God is always watching, that He has a hand in our actions and our fates. But He mainly sits back and lets us figure things out for ourselves. Occasionally, He will help us or protect us. But you cannot see Him. The Mother is different. Everywhere you look, you see her. She is the trees, the grass, this lake and the fish that swim in it. She brings us the rains and clears them away so the sun may warm us."

"I thought you said that was all magic," Harry pointed out.

"Yes, but magic originally came from the Mother," Zenon explained. "Humans forget this. Even the wizards. They believe they are simply born with it because of their blood. The ones who were the first of their line don't understand why they have the precious gift of magic. It is because the Mother granted it."

"Why?"

"No one truly knows. Perhaps because the first one held great potential to do good, so she granted them the gift and kept on granting it to the descendants. Just as she granted it to you. When you use your magic, remember that it is borrowed from her. And when you pass, just like your body, your magic will return to her. You are here because she brought you here. Everyone is born because she allows it."

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps she knows how irresponsible people would be with a child, so she does not grant fertility even if Aphrodite allows it. Humans and their science finds ways around her judgement, but those that try naturally may end up never having children until she decides they can. Your parents were no different. They had you because she blessed them with you. You have magic because she gifted you with it."

"But who is the Mother?"

"Gaia," Zenon replied, brown eyes taking in the view around them. "Mother Nature. We are born from Nature herself. And when we die, we are returned to her. We all live on borrowed time, my son. And we must thank every day we are allowed to live. Every life we love. Even every enemy we are challenged with. She provides for all our needs, and she, along with the gods, grant us priceless gifts."

"Like my magic?" Harry asked, looking up at Zenon questionably.

"Like you," the minotaur chuckled. "With or without your magic, you would still be here. Children like you and Argyros are priceless gifts that she has blessed us with time and time again. What we have done to earn you, we will probably never know. But I thank her every day for bringing you to me."

"The Mother brought me here?" the child asked, eyes wide in wonder.

"She heard you, rescued you, and brought you to us. Brought you to me so that you will grow up loved and protected. I assume she also helped you understand our language so you may speak and hear our words as well as your native tongue."

"Whoa," Harry whispered before squirming. "How do I thank her?"

"Like you thank anyone else," Zenon replied with a wave of his hand. "Remember, like the humans' God, she sees and hears everything. If you wish to thank her, simply do so. Most will try more extravagant ways, trying to show their appreciation for her by sacrifices or rituals. But all you need to do is say it."

"Okay," Harry said with a nod of his head. Inhaling deeply before slowly letting it out, he looked out to the surface of the lake. "Thank you for saving me from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Thank you for bringing me to Zenon. He's a great dad! And for Elder Taras and Atlas and Kyma and especially Argyros." He smiled brightly. "Thank you for bringing me to my family!"

The breeze returned, and for a moment, Harry thought he felt wispy fingers run through his hair and a voice in the wind. His smile grew as he twisted back around to his father. "I think I heard her!" he said lowly.

Zenon chuckled, ruffling Harry's wild hair. "Perhaps you did." Then he looked out to the lake as well, the wind brushing his coat. "Thank you. For everything."

 **Here the Chapter Ends**

 **So here we are! Harry is with the minotaurs! Who saw that part about Mother Nature coming up before you reached it?**

 **Now let me say something before flamers get pissed off. I was not bashing God or saying anything against Him! I am not religious nor am I atheist. If you were offended in any way, I apologize. I did not intend to offend anyone.**

 **But I do believe in Mother Nature herself. And I also believe that we're constantly pissing her off. That's my excuse for the crazy weather happening here back home the past few years. Don't know what it's like elsewhere, but we do hear about the big stuff even way over here in the USA.**

 **And if anyone is going to start with Gaia (Mother Nature) being more important than the Greek Gods to the minotaurs, think of this. From Chaos came Gaia, Tartarus, and Eros. From Gaia, came Uranus. From Uranus and Gaia, came the Hundred-handlers, Cyclopes, and the Titans. Cronus kills Uranus, marries his sister Rhea, and they have the gods. Not all of them, but quite a few. Zeus is saved by Rhea and hidden, then takes revenge on Cronus, locking him and the other Titans away in Tartarus after a decade-long battle. So Gaia has been around longer than the Gods. For crying out loud, you can tell from this that she is their Grandmother!**

 **See? Like I mentioned at the start of last chapter. Mythological? I got a good chunk of that covered. Reality? I'm lacking…**

 **Okay, that's out of the way. I do not plan on putting a poll or anything up asking who Harry will be paired with because I already have that in mind. If it isn't obvious by now, it will be later.**

 **NO, NOT ZENON! THAT IS A FATHER/SON RELATIONSHIP AND ALL IT WILL EVER BE!**

 **Review and let me know what you think!**

 **Names and What They Mean (As I Found them Online)**

 **Argyros – Silver**

 **Atlas – he who carries**

 **Kyma – sprout/ wave**

 **Zenon – harness**

 **Taras – Poseidon's son - - If anyone has a translation for this one, please share it. That was all I could find on it.**


	4. Finding Out

**Well I'm glad everyone is enjoying the story so far! ^_^ Your reviews make me smile!**

 **Not much for me to say this time around. So on with the chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or any Greek Mythology.**

 **Here the Chapter Starts**

 **Four Years Later**

"Psst! Harry! Wake up!"

Large hands shook him, coaxing him from his land of dreams. Harry groaned into his fur bedding, bundling a rabbit skin to his face to try and block out the intruder. The wolf pelt that was his blanket as pulled back with a snicker from the other. Harry patted the bed around his legs, trying to relocate the warm fur that was stolen from him.

"Come on! You gotta wake up!"

"Don't wanna," Harry groaned into the rabbit pelt.

He felt the larger body straddle his legs and could feel the movement of the other leaning down towards him until hot breath flowed over his ear. Harry curled into a slightly tighter ball, unable to move his legs much now.

"Last chance," the body sang.

Oh, the human boy could just hear the grin on the other's face. "Want sleep," he muttered.

"Alright then." He heard the deep inhale, yet could not stop the other fast enough. A loud bellow echoed through the cavern, ringing into Harry's poor ears.

Harry's hands flew to his ears to try and block out the sound, body shooting upright and almost into the laughing mass still sitting on his legs. "Get off, Argyros!" he yelled, trying to shove the silver minotaur off of him. "You're crushing my legs!"

"Got you up!" Argyros cheered, jumping from the bed and going to the doorway. "Come on, come on!"

"What's the rush?" Harry yawned as he ran his fingers through his pitch hair that reached down to his mid back.

"Get up and you'll see!" the bouncy, preteen minotaur answered before bolting.

The human groaned again, letting out another yawn as he stretched his arms into the air. He wasn't thinking much of whatever got Argyros so excited. Sometimes, it was the smallest things. He was calming down compared to his younger years, but the preteen still had too much energy.

Still, he knew that if he didn't up and go outside soon, Argyros would come back in and drag him out. Naked or not. He wobbled over to a chest full of clothing that some of the humans in the herd bought for him when showing him the cities around the island. He felt bad about them spending money on him when he had nothing to give in return, but they always told him not to worry about it. It hardly ebbed the guilt, so he would do small errands or jobs for them to help pay them back.

He tossed off his sleeping shorts before pulling out a dark green shirt and black denim slacks. Once dressed, he tied his hair at the base of his neck while slipping his shoes onto his feet. The back of the shoes slipped under his heels, but after wiggling his foot around enough, the wall popped back up.

Grabbing his quiver full of arrows and bow then strapping his panpipes to his waist, he ran out of the cavern to catch up with his friend. He dodged the others as they traversed from the cavern to the outside, slipping between bodies as he ran. While his early malnutrition in his life stunted his growth, the care Zenon gave him helped him grow into a delicate frame full of surprises.

Running from the mouth of the cave, his feet carried him to the only silver mass amongst the crowd of the waking herd. Argyros spotted him almost immediately, waving him over.

Panting lightly, Harry stopped by his friend's side, earning a slap on the back and a barking laugh from the other. "So, what's the big deal?" he asked.

"I'll let Uncle Zenon tell you," he baited with a cheeky grin.

"Argyros!" Harry whined, narrowing his eyes at the snickering preteen. "By Zeus' bolt, what has got you so excited?"

"Perhaps he is eager because he remembers something about today that you seem to have forgotten, son," Zenon's voice drifted to his ears. Harry barely stopped himself from jumping in surprise. He was so focused on Argyros that he didn't think to stay alert for anyone else. Zenon seemed to notice anyway. "First rule?" he asked, crossing his arms, almost tenderly.

He was still recovering and the damage to his arms, back, and ribs were pretty bad. His surface wounds had already healed and the only sign of any lacerations were the freshly healed skin areas that had not regrown hair yet. Considering it was a Cyclops that Zenon fought, he got off very lucky.

"Always be aware of my surroundings, whether it be the hunt or with family and friends," the human child responded, lowering his head in acceptance of his father's slight scold.

"Exactly," Zenon said with a nod of his head. "You do need to watch yourself, Harry. You can't always talk your way out of things. I am glad that you can with most, but not all will stand down just because you ask them to. Many wait for you to drop your guard before they strike."

"And they can't strike if I keep my guard up," Harry finished the lecture. "I know, Dad. It won't happen again."

"I hope not, especially today," his father accepted, his brown eyes taking in the items his son carries. "You're going on your first hunt today."

Jaw dropped and eyes wide, Harry looked back and forth between his father and best friend, looking for some sign that they were trying to deceive him as a joke. Argyros only smiled brighter, nodding his head. Zenon offered his own smile, as well.

"I'm really going on an actual hunt?!" Harry exclaimed in excitement.

"Yes, you are." Before Harry could get too excited, he held his hand up to stop the inevitable burst of excitement. It is a special occasion, going on the first hunt, after all. So it had to be handled properly. "Your giddiness will end up scaring away the prey. Calm yourself."

Nodding, Harry inhaled deeply before slowly letting it out. "So I won't have practice today?" he asked, his hand grasping the strap of his quiver.

"Practice never hurts," Zenon replied. "But no. Not today."

"What about my magic lessons?"

"I spoke with your tutors and they are willing to let you go today. You can catch up on your lessons at a later time."

"Great!" Harry cheered, jumping in excitement only for Argyros to grab him before his feet touched the ground again.

"Come on, Uncle Zenon! Tell him to good part!" he nearly begged, placing Harry on his shoulder. Though older and larger than Harry, Argyros could not hold the human boy on his shoulders as easily as Zenon could. Harry managed to move one leg to the other shoulder, straddling the back of Argyros's neck.

Zenon sighed with a shake of his head. "Normally I would go with you on your first few hunts," he started. "At least until you find your own way that works for you and can handle hunting alone. Though I am sorry to say that I have not fully recovered from that encounter with the Cyclops. But you are ready for your first hunt. There is no reason to hold you back until I recover. We don't even know when it will be. So in my stead, Argyros will go with you."

"Really?" Harry asked, startled. Argyros has only been hunting for a couple years, but he was already becoming a great hunter. Most new hunters would bring in a few rabbits or a deer. Not Argyros. He brought back a large boar. But he is still young, not quite a teenager but close to it.

"He's proven himself an able hunter and warrior," the older minotaur pointed out. "If something attacks you and you cannot handle it, he might be able to."

"I understand," Harry said with a sharp nod.

"Argyros, do you understand your responsibility?" he asked his nephew. "This is my son I am entrusting you to protect in my place."

"I understand, Uncle," Argyros replied with a bow of his head. "I promise I won't let anything happen to him."

"I'll hold you to your word." Looking back to his adopted son, his eyes briefly took in the sight of his bow and arrows. "Remember, he is only showing you the ropes and making sure you are not attacked by something you cannot handle. You are the one who tracks and takes down the prey."

"I know, I know," Harry chuckled, crossing his arms and placing them on Argyros's head, his elbows hooking around the growing horns. "Promise not to let you down, Dad."

Zenon shook his head. "I am not worried about that," he informed the child. "Harry, you could never let me down. Occasionally disappoint me with poor choices, yes. But never let me down. Even if you come back with nothing, I will be proud that you managed to come back home safely."

"Thanks, Dad." Placing his hands on Argyros's shoulders, Harry pushed himself up and slipped his legs from their spots before sliding down the minotaur's back. Once Harry was safely on the ground, Argyros grabbed his axe from the nearby stump it was lodged in. After strapping it to his belt, he looked down at the smaller boy.

Though smaller than other humans his age, Harry was not scrawny. His frame was made of lean muscles, built up by years of three meals a day and exercise. Not to mention the time he spends with the fauns and nymphs. Both species were very active, after all. As well as the training he had practically begged Zenon for so that he could hunt and defend himself. Spending much of his days in the sun gave Harry a beautiful bronze, which only seemed to bring more attention to his bright emerald eyes.

"Ready?" he asked, tilting his head.

"And waiting!" Harry chirped.

 **Change Here**

"Hey," Argyros whispered, lightly bumping Harry's back.

Harry looked up from the patch of recently disturbed grass. "Yeah?"

"I got you something," he started, rubbing the back of his head. "Well, made it actually. Mom helped me with it."

Blinking a couple times, Harry stood and looked up to his unusually nervous friend. "What is it?" he asked.

Instead of answering, Argyros reached into the sack tied to his belt and pulled out a fuzzy white object. Once held out for him, Harry saw it was a doll that is only a bit larger than the minotaur's palm and it looked just like him. Even the coat was the same color, which Harry thought was interesting by itself. Argyros has an unusual and unique color. The eyes of the doll were small yellow gems, topaz by the look of them. The horns were made of white wood, sanded down to smoothness. Tanned animal hide made up the clothing, much like what the minotaurs wear.

"It's cute," Harry giggled, taking the small doll. "It looks just like you, color and all."

"It's a Talk Doll," Argyros explained. "Mom said it works better when we use a part of ourselves."

"Part of yourself?" Harry asked, his fingers brushing over the silver fur. It even felt like his. "Argyros, is this your hair?"

"Yeah, remember when I said a crazy harpy cut my arm a while back?" he asked, rubbing the area of his arm that was hurt just a few weeks ago. "Don't freak out."

"It's your skin?" Harry asked, looking at the doll in shock. "Argyros, you hurt yourself for this? Why?"

"Seemed like a good idea," the other replied with a shrug. "I wanted a way to reach you no matter what. So I asked Elder Taras what I could do. He suggested a Talk Doll and I ask Mom to help me make one."

With a soft sigh, Harry looked to his friend with a worried gaze before looking back to the doll. "So, what does a Talk Doll do?" Harry asked, holding the doll between his hands.

"Well, you have one that looks like me and if you're okay with it, I want to make another one of you. With them, we can talk to each other no matter how far we are from each other."

"We see each other every day, Argyros," Harry pointed out, though was smiling. It really was such a cute gesture, in his opinion.

"But what if we get separated in the forest? We could use the Talk Dolls to find out where the other is, especially if one of us is hurt and can't move. Not to mention that once the Talk Dolls are tuned to us particularly, no matter who holds the one that looks like us, we'll still be able to talk through them. So conversations with whomever in case of separation while with someone else."

The human smiled down at the doll before looking back down at Argyros. "Will you need my skin for it?" he asked jokingly.

"Not really," he replied with a shrug. "Can use your hair or something. Only if you want."

With a grin, Harry pulled his knife out. Still holding the Talk Doll in one hand, he managed to cut a few inches off of his hair, the tresses now reaching to his shoulder blades instead of the middle of his back. Argyros stared wide-eyed as Harry held the freshly cut hair out for him to take. Accepting the offering, Argyros twisted the hair before tying a knot in it so no strands would be lost. Sure it would suffice, he put the hair in his carry sack.

"I'm glad you like it," he said with a small smile. "I was kind of afraid you would freak out when I mentioned it was made with my skin."

"About that," Harry drawled out before swatting the minotaur's stomach. "Don't you ever hurt yourself like that again! This is a sweet gesture, Argyros, but please. Promise me you won't hurt yourself like that again."

Nodding, the preteen said, "I promise."

"Good! Now, think whatever left these tracks is still close?" the human asked as he inspected the grass patch again.

"This is your first hunt, not mine," Argyros pointed out. "You're on your own with this one."

Harry turned to look at him only long enough to stick his tongue out at the snickering minotaur. Attention back on the grass, he spotted shallow footprints in the dirt. Letting out a hum, he rose only enough to move faster but still low enough to see the prints. As he followed them, he noticed something about them. They were in the shape of goat hooves, but none were overlapping like four-legged creature prints tend to.

Signing dejectedly, Harry rose to full height before taking his panpipes and playing a few notes. Argyros looked at him curiously then smirked, already knowing what the prints were and probably waiting for Harry to find out himself. For a few seconds, it was only the sounds of the forest surrounding them, then a few soft notes were played back.

"Faun," Harry sighed.

"Still pretty good tracking him," Argyros complimented.

Bringing the panpipe back to his lips, he played a few more notes, earning an answer back quickly this time. His lips twitched a smirk before he looked to Argyros. "Sounds like Altair," he commented.

"Yep," the minotaur said with a huff.

It wasn't that he didn't like Altair, he just didn't like how the faun was constantly trying to get Harry away. Call him selfish, but Argyros wanted to keep Harry to himself. He didn't mind the other friends the boy had, and he had quite a few odd ones. The gorgon especially. She was an oddball even among gorgons. But Altair keeps trying to get Harry away from him. And though he does not understand the music like Harry was taught to by the faun, he was pretty sure Altair does not like him either. His face would say it all, as well as the harsh tones he would play as well.

Faun are strange creatures. Their main way of communicating was with their panpipes. Some could talk, but it was rare to find one. The trainer of Heroes is only one of a few. A 'few' that Altair was slowly becoming a part of because of Harry teaching him how to speak in exchange for learning their 'language'. Which meant more time Harry spent with the faun while Argyros suffered under the smug expression Altair often shot his way.

Rustling caught their attention before the responsible party emerged with a smile on his lips and panpipe in his hand. He leaned his head against a tree with a smile directed at Harry, small horns spouting upwards from his forehead before the tips curled back, pointing towards his straw-colored hair that was almost long enough to cover his pointed ears. His lower half was that of a yellow-coated goat, thicker hair on the hocks and above the black-striped hooves.

"Hi, Harry," he greeted. His hazel eyes drifted to Argyros, who scowled at him and earned the smug look in return. He played a couple hard notes from his panpipe, which Argyros did learn was to be the faun's way of greeting him.

Since Harry never scolded him for it, he'll only assume it is his name and not an insult. Unless he didn't know what the notes meant either and just assumed Altair was struggling to say the minotaur's name.

"Altair," Harry returned. "What are you doing around here?"

"I saw you," he answered then pointed back the direction he saw the pair from. "Went ahead. And I tricked you!" He laughed lightly, thinking his little prank clever.

Harry scowled at him then stomped his foot onto the ground hard. Altair reared back a little in shock. "It's my first hunt!" the human pointed out. "You distracted me!"

Lowering his head and gaze a little, the faun played a long, sorrowful note.

The human sighed with a shake of his head before playing a few notes on his own panpipe. Seeing Altair nod quickly, Argyros only guessed Harry was telling him not to do it again. "Come on," Harry groaned. "Let's see if I can find something else to track."

Altair perked up excitedly before grabbing Harry's arm. Argyros growled lowly at him, but the faun didn't release him. Quick, excited notes flew from the panpipe as Altair tried to drag Harry along. Harry jerked back before playing a couple notes on his own instrument. Seeing Altair's hurt expression, Harry sighed again. "I need to find prey on my own," he explained.

The faun looked at him thoughtfully before shrugging casually. "I follow you," he stated, arms crossing over each other.

"No!" Argyros argued. "You're noise making will warn prey we're coming. You'll scare everything off!"

"Argyros," Harry sighed slightly, something he tends to do when these two were in close proximity to each other. Still, the minotaur could have said it a little more politely. Scowling at the larger creature, Altair played a few notes harshly, which made Harry sputter in surprise. "Altair!" he cried.

"What did he say?" Argyros asked, agitation already taking hold.

"I'm not repeating it."

"Tell me."

"Not gonna do it."

"How can I defend myself against him if I don't know what he's saying?"

"I'm still not repeating it."

 **Change Here**

Zenon watched the sun rise higher into the sky, anxiety inching closer and closer to his heart. Perhaps he should have had Atlas take Harry. Argyros is still young. Strong, but young. Then again, despite how much Atlas may love Harry as though they did share the same blood, Argyros would defend him from anything. No matter the cost. But if they run into a creature neither could handle, then he just sent his son and nephew to their deaths.

"They're fine," Atlas sighed, digging his ax into a stump. "Zenon, my son hunted down and killed a boar when he was ten. With a couple of arrows and his bare hands. Harry is in safe hands with him."

"You did not worry that the boar was too much for him to handle?" Zenon asked his younger brother, who only rolled his eyes in response. "I saw the tusks on that beast. And it was very large."

"He handled himself well enough," Atlas pointed out with a shrug. "Only a few minor injuries."

Zenon let out a huff of air. "You understand why I worry over him so," he stated, eyes scanning the tree line. "He is not weak, but he is small. And what will happen should they encounter a Cyclopes? They are ruthless!"

"And that one that attacked you was a freak accident," his younger brother argued with a shake of his head. "They have their territory. The humans are meant to keep them contained there because of their aggression. It was just an accident that one slipped out." Atlas offered his brother a comforting smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. "The kids are fine."

"They've been gone for hours!"

"Hunting doesn't happen within a few minutes, as we both know. Relax and give them time."

"All morning, Atlas!"

His brother sighed again, removing his hand from Zenon's shoulder then rubbing the back of his head. "Zenon, brother, I know you worry about Harry. Trust me, I do the same for Argyros. But you really need to calm down and take a step back. You can't smother him his whole life."

"I know!" He snorted before shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. "I know." He just did not want to lose him.

"They'll be back soon. Relax. At least before I find Kyma and have her sedate you until they get home."

Zenon let out a small laugh. It generally took a lot to render a minotaur unconscious, but Kyma did find a very effective way. He has a suspicion that Gaia had a hand in it. That or humans accidentally discovered it first and Kyma found it soon after.

"Looks like sooner truly isn't later, though," Atlas chuckled, making Zenon blink before looking the same direction as his brother. Harry was stepping out of the line with Argyros next to him, a buck draped over the minotaur's shoulders since the weight would probably too much for Harry. Two arrows were in the corpse, one in the neck and another in the shoulder. Smiling, Zenon made his way over to the pair, Atlas following behind him.

As they got closer, they could pick up on the conversation the two were in the middle of.

"I'm just saying, this could have been done a lot faster without that guy," Argyros was pointing out, turning his head away to avoid Harry's light glare.

"It's not his fault that he can't speak very well," Harry shot back. "Altair was raised to use the panpipes. If he can't say something, he'll play it."

"And scare away everything around him. No wonder the faun are vegetarians. Besides, he imposed on a very important tradition. He should not have tagged along."

"You tell him that."

"I did. He ignored me. Remember? More like insulted me, but you won't say how."

"It was very rude."

"Dare I even ask," Zenon said as soon as he was close enough.

"Dad!" Harry greeted enthusiastically. "Look, I took down a buck!"

"Good job," Zenon chuckled, placing a hand on Harry's small shoulder and giving him a gentle shake. Harry laughed lightly. "How did things go?" he asked his nephew.

"He tracked a rabbit, but the prints were old and he figured that out after a minute," Argyros started. "Then he found another set of tracks. Turned out to be Altair joking around and distracting Harry. A bit of hunting later, close call with a centaur that decided we weren't worth the effort in the end, and Harry found this buck. Missed the kill shot on his first arrow, but got him with the second before he got too far."

"How close of a call?" Zenon asked worriedly.

"Not close enough if neither of them are injured, brother," Atlas laughed, clapping his own son's shoulder. "Well, Harry. You brought back a nice buck. Not bad for your first hunt."

"Thanks, Uncle Atlas," Harry said with a smile then looked up to Zenon. "I'm fine, Dad. The centaur was mainly trying to scare us off, but Argyros scared him too much." His father only shook his head with a chuckle, hugging Harry close to him. The human briefly looked around their area.

Some of the other minotaurs didn't think he would even be allowed on a hunt since he was so small. His magic could help him in tight situations, but the beasts of the forest are powerful. Some said that he shouldn't simply because he is a human. Now they were looking at them, at _him_ , surprised that he managed to find a buck and kill it. They probably expected him to come home with a squirrel or some sort of rodent. The bigger the first prey, the better. The more difficult, the more respect.

"You did good, son," Zenon complimented. "Maybe I'll be healed enough to go on your next hunt."

"If you do and you run into Altair, can you please get him to stop following us on hunts?" Argyros asked in annoyance.

"I'll see what I can do."

 **Change Here**

In an ancient castle overlooking a large lake surrounded by forest, sat an elderly man with long white hair with an equally long white beard. His blue eyes lacked their usual twinkle as they scanned over the registry for students that are to arrive for this upcoming year.

Harry Potter. The name had shown up as soon as Lily and James found out that their baby was a boy while still in the womb, like so many other pureblood families. New names appeared when Muggleborns did their first bout of accidental magic. Though on the list of names, only the Hogwarts Quill knew exact locations. And he waited with anxiety and impatience coursing through his withering body.

Next to him, the Quill signed away on the letters, scribbling down the addresses flawlessly. The letters would then be taken to the owlery and sent off, scattered around their country to invite young witches and wizards to this castle so that they may learn more about their magic.

The second Patil invitation was signed and the letter taken away. Soon the Quill was writing a new letter and supply list. Dumbledore paid close attention after reading the first few words. _Dear Mr. Potter._

The rest was written out as smoothly as previous letters, the Quill never slowing. The letter and list finished, the parchment was neatly folded and encased in an envelope. The Quill tip took to the envelope and started writing out the address. Once done, Dumbledore snatched it before it disappeared to the owlery.

 _Harry Potter of the Yevgeni Herd_

 _Base of Lefka Ori Mountains_

 _Crete, Greece_

Crete? Greece?! What was the boy doing there when he is supposed to be with Petunia and her family?!

Taking in a deep breath and popping a lemon drop into his mouth, he managed to calm himself. Perhaps it is simply a family vacation. Supposedly, the Quill knows where everyone is at the time it writes the addresses. It is entirely possible that is the situation.

Crete is a beautiful place, after all. He could not blame the Dursley Family for wishing to go there for the last bit of summer. They had to take Harry with them.

But that did not explain the first bit. 'Of the Yevgeni Herd'? He could not understand that part. Placing the letter into his robes, he rose from his seat, leaving the Quill to its work undisturbed. Taking his Floo Powder, he threw it into the fireplace, calling for Minister Fudge's office.

 **Here the Chapter Ends**

 **Okay, gonna end it here.**

 **If anyone can see the potential romance by now, great. I thought to make it a little more interesting. Most stories have Harry interested in one person, that person liking him back, with very little opposition. Ginny Weasley being an exception. A lot don't have a third party to complicate things. So I brought one in.**

 **Shall we see how that will play out in the future? And yes, Harry does have friends of various species. I like the idea of him having a gorgon friend. I doubt I could pull off a hydra friend for him. They're mean bastards…**

 **See you all next chapter! ^_^**

 **Altair- star**


	5. Dumbledore Meets the Yevgeni

**And we're back! Ladies and gentlemen! My dear faithful readers! Now we will reach what you have been waiting for!**

 **Zenon vs Dumbledore! How well shall this play out? Not even I know! My fingers go at the speed of light when I write! So long as ideas pump into my head, they shall not rest!**

 **Am I done being dramatic?!**

… **Yeah, I'm good now…**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or any Greek Mythology**

 **Here the Chapter Starts**

The Magical Prime Minister of Greece was generally in a very good mood. His employees would say that he is an easy man to work for so long as they did their jobs competently. When pointed at a problem, he did not sweep it under the rug or act like it was not there. Oh, no! He fixed it. It would take weeks, months, perhaps even years. But he never hid the problem, he fixed it, and he listened to his people.

Though there is one thing he does not like. While he does tolerate other Heads of Magical Communities, he does not handle the ones who walk into his country and tell him how to handle his people and the creatures. One such person, or country is the more accurate term since his predecessor had similar issues with the country as well, is the Minster of Magic in the United Kingdom, Cornelius Fudge.

When the man dared to walk into his office, followed by an elderly man that many in the continent knew or heard of in some way, Magical Prime Minister Felix Vernandos was very much alert.

"Ah, Prime Minister Vernandos," the imbecile greeted him, holding out his hand.

Upon entering his ministry, the two triggered the ward that would help them understand and speak Greek. Once they leave the country, it will disappear. It was quite ingenious of the third Magical Prime Minister to put such a ward up.

Forcing a smile on his thin lips, the dark-haired Prime Minister accepted the offered limb. "Minister Fudge," he greeted in return then looked over to the elder. "Albus Dumbledore."

"Hello, Prime Minister," Dumbledore returned with a slight bow of his head. "I am glad we were able to arrange this meeting."

Arrange? Felix wanted to scoff. The two left him no choice, saying it was of utmost importance that they meet, not a moment too soon. "I as well," he replied as the men sat in front of his desk. "Now, may I ask what matter concerns you so much that you reach all the way down here to this lovely country?"

"Allow me to explain our history somewhat, Prime Minister," Dumbledore started. "Over a decade ago, we were terrorized by a Dark Lord named Voldemort." Fudge nearly fell from his seat at the name, to the Prime Minister's bewildered amusement. "He killed many people, muggleborn and pureblood that did not side with him. It was a very dark time for us. No one knew how to stop him.

"Yet nearly ten years ago, he attacked a family who were very close friends of mine. Lily and James Potter. They died that dreadful night, but their son survived the Killing Curse. He rebound it back at Voldemort somehow. With Voldemort defeated and his parents dead, I left young Harry with his aunt and uncle, away from all the fame that would ruin his childhood."

"I fail to see the problem," Felix pointed out. "Your Dark Lord is dead. A child miraculously survives a curse none have survived before."

"His followers, I fear, would still hunt young Harry in order to avenge their fallen master," Dumbledore continued. "He should be of age within a couple of days to attend my school, Hogwarts. He was registered before he was born. Yet when the Quill wrote out his address, it did not say what I expected."

He reached into his robes, pulling the envelope from its hold before handing it over to Felix. Chocolate eyes scanned over the address before eyebrows rose in slight surprise. "Of the Yevgeni?" he read then hummed curiously. "Yevgeni…Yevgeni…Ah! That is Elder Taras's herd. Good man, he is. Though it is not uncommon for them to find strays and take them in."

"So you do know what that means and why he is here?" Fudge asked, leaning forward.

"He is in safe hands," Felix told them calmly, placing the invitation on his desk.

"It does not matter," Fudge started to argue as Dumbledore took the letter and returned it to its original place in his robes. "Harry Potter is a citizen of Great Britain, of our community. He is here illegally and should have been brought back to us as soon as he was found."

"Well, if he even knew where he was originally from, there is very little I could even do," Felix explained calmly, though was already getting irritated. "Perhaps if you come with me, you will see what I mean. Melina!"

A couple seconds passed before the door opened to reveal a blue-eyed, red-haired woman in her mid-twenties. Her hair was in a pixie cut, leaving the jade-colored leaf markings on the side of her face easily visible. "Yes, sir?"

"I will need a Portkey to the Yevgeni Herd," he stated. "For three."

"Right away, sir!"

"And please make sure it does not take us to any of the other herds." With a smile and nod, the young woman left, the door clicking shut behind her. Felix let out a gentle laugh. "Last year, I went to visit the Abiron Herd, but the Portkey took me to the Gergo Herd instead. Elder Nestor thought it was quite funny when I explained my unexpected arrival."

"I believe we will require an explanation," Fudge firmly said, almost demanding.

"The minotaur herds," Felix chuckled. "Each herd is named after the grandsons of the first Minotaur, Asterios. So there are seven herds in all."

"Minotaurs!" Fudge sputtered in fearful outrage.

"Harry has been with such dangerous creatures and you left him there?" Dumbledore asked, his voice not unlike a grandfather disappointed in his own grandchild.

"Dangerous creatures?" the Prime Minister repeated in confusion. "My dear man, do you know what the minotaurs even are? How they live? Their beliefs? Dangerous creatures…Preposterous! The only dangerous one was the very first and that was only because he was isolated all his life and anyone he did see tried to kill him. I do not blame him, the poor beast."

"He could still be in trouble!" the English Minister pointed out roughly.

"I doubt it," Felix chuckled before the door opened again. Melina walked back in, placing an old plate on his desk. "Keyword same as usual?"

"Of course, sir!" the woman chirped, lacing her fingers together over her stomach. "Tell Titos 'hello' for me if you see him."

"I will do so," the Prime Minister promised with a nod. "Gentlemen?" His hand grasped the edge of the plate, soon followed by two more. "Elder Taras."

They disappeared from the office, leaving Melina alone in the room. She sighed heavily, her lips in a pout. "This weekend can't arrive soon enough!" she whined, stomping her heeled foot on the floor.

 **Change Here**

Elder Taras did not jump when three men suddenly appeared before him. His head was still tilted towards the floor, the bear pelt covering him not even rustling from their arrival. Milky eyes blinked slowly before he finally looked up, his nostrils widening to take in the scents of the newcomers. "Felix," he greeted. "I would say it is good to see you, but I cannot."

"Has your sight gone completely, my friend?" Felix asked worriedly, repositioning himself to sit in front of the elderly minotaur. Unsure, Fudge settled behind him, closer to the only exit. Dumbledore radiated calm, sitting next to the Prime Minister, but his eyes were watchful and body tense, ready for any hostile action that could come.

"I am afraid so," Elder Taras replied with a nod of his massive head. "I see shadows now, but cannot make their shape. It is well enough. My nose and ears tell me all I need to know."

"I am glad to hear you coping," the Prime Minister said softly. His last visit was a few months ago, but Taras's sight was failing then even though he could still see enough of his surroundings to know where he was and who was near him. "Remember, should you need any help, I will be glad to render it."

The elderly minotaur chuckled lowly. "I may take you on that offer one day. However, there is no helping the passage of time nor its consequences." Turning his head slightly as his ears twitched, he asked, "Who do you bring with you?"

"Forgive my rudeness," he replied before introducing the newcomers. "This is Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic in the United Kingdoms, and Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of a prodigious school, Hogwarts."

Taras let out a small snort before nodding his head. "I greet you, Cornelius Fudge and Albus Dumbledore. You are welcome here so long as you do not harm any of this family."

"Thank you," Dumbledore answered for both himself and the frightened Fudge. Honestly, the man had no backbone. Though he did have to admit, elderly this creature is, it still looked quite fearsome. No doubt if provoked, it could kill them quickly and easily.

"If I may inquire, what business do you have with the Yevgeni?" the elder asked, head lifting only a little more. His ears perked up, as though trying to pick up a specific sound, before he shook his head in dismissal.

"They are looking for someone," Felix explained. "An English boy named Harry Potter."

Taras hummed questionably. Already knowing whom exactly they were searching for, he had to be sure.

Understanding the unspoken question, Felix looked to Dumbledore. "His appearance?"

Dumbledore and Fudge both looked shocked that Felix did not know what Harry looked like. But Dumbledore recovered first and told them, "He should be close to eleven years by now. He has black hair, probably wild like his father's, James. And green eyes like his mother Lily. He also has a lightning bolt scar on his forehead."

Taras nodded. "Zenon's boy," he supplied, reaching down to grab a rock in front of him. No one understood why he had a pile of rocks in his hut. Only his son and grandsons realized that he would often use them to find anomalies in his hut by rolling them towards sounds he knew did not belong. "You mean to take him away?"

Watching the elderly creature in front of him, Dumbledore answered. "Yes. He is meant to stay with his aunt and uncle. He was safe there until he could come to my school."

"Safe?" Taras grumbled, hand squeezing the rock. "Raised by hatred, yet still so pure."

Felix quirked an eyebrow. Dumbledore ignored the comment. Fudge glanced out the doorway briefly, only to see more minotaurs and other various creatures, as well as a few humans. Or were they something else that only looked human? Gulping, he turned back to the Elder.

"He survived a curse that was meant to kill," Dumbledore went on. "He rebound it back to the caster, a Dark Lord named Voldemort." Fudge jumped again. Taras snorted in annoyance at the noise. "I feared his followers would seek vengeance against Harry, so I placed him with his only living relatives."

"You left him there and thought not to see him?" Taras asked, his grip tightening. Thin cracks started showing on the rock. His lungs took in a large breath, holding for a few seconds before slowly releasing. "You know not what he suffered. The Mother, Gaia, brought him to us. Though my sight was faded, I could still see him." The rock suddenly shattered in his palm, pieces falling to the floor. The fingers uncurled, revealing the small pile of rubble leftover.

Ears flat, Taras looked towards the two British men. "He will not go back there."

"It is very important that he does return," Dumbledore started, ignoring as the small pile was dumped onto the floor. "I assure you, Harry is safest there when not at school."

"I assure you," Taras growled. "He is no more safer anywhere other than here. Should these followers track him here, we will not let them near him."

"I must insist-"

Taras suddenly bellowed, silencing Dumbledore and earning a squeak from Fudge. Felix didn't react other than a slight jump. He was expecting it, but not at the same time. Much like waiting for the timer to sound while watching it slowly move to zero. "You hear but not listen," Taras growled at him. "You speak and expect obedience. You grasp the power you believe is rightfully yours and refuse to relinquish."

Before Dumbledore could open his mouth, steps were heard coming to the hut before another minotaur was in the doorway. Fudge inched away. "Grandfather? Are you well?" he asked. Stepping into the hut, his coloring was seen easier. His coat was a dark gray, looking as though he had rolled in ashes until achieving his desired shade. Though the lower half of his legs were black, as well as the thicker wavy hair around his neck and trailing down his chest.

"Do your old grandfather a favor, Titos," Taras wearily said. "Find Zenon and bring him here."

Coal eyes looked down at the three people, offering a smile in greeting to Felix before it vanished when he looked at the other two. "Very well, Grandfather." He turned, leaving the hut. Fudge let out a breath of relief.

"Minister Fudge, are you well?" Felix asked, acting concerned but was relishing in the man's behavior. He was making a fool of himself around creatures that don't harm anyone unless they feel threatened for themselves or their family.

"Quite," Fudge managed to reply. "I am simply overwhelmed."

Taras snorted, able to smell the fear that flowed from the man as a wave that crashed against the shore. It is expected. Most are scared when first meeting a minotaur. They generally calm down after some time. The other that smelled much older, he only detected a small amount of fear, a trickle instead of a stream. If anything, the man smelt dangerous.

Titos soon returned with a second minotaur in tow. "I brought Zenon, Grandfather," the gray minotaur stated as the golden brown minotaur entered. Though the gold was not easily detected, it was nearly blinding when the sun hit his coat.

"Thank you, my grandson," the Elder replied with a nod of his head. "Zenon, if you may sit next to me."

"Yes, Elder," Zenon accepted, walking by the Prime Minister of Magic to claim the position the Elder asked him to take.

"Oh! Before I forget," Felix suddenly exclaimed, turning to Titos. "Melina wanted me to send you a 'hello' on her behalf."

The younger creature was obviously struggling the hold back a goofy grin. "Thank you, Felix."

"Not at all, Titos. Not at all!"

Giving the room a small bow of his head, Titos left once more. Though they could hear that he didn't wander far, possibly just outside the door by a few feet.

"I cannot wait until he finally asks her," Taras chuckled with a shake of his head. "I would like great grandchildren before I pass."

"They're working on it, at least," Felix laughed gently. "And at least you became a grandfather before reaching your ripe age."

"Quite," the Elder agreed before turning to Zenon. "Now, on to the reason I called for you, Zenon." Zenon lowered his head respectfully, brown eyes locked onto the older minotaur. "These two are from the country of the United Kingdoms. One is the Minister of Magic, the other the Headmaster of a school. They wish for Harry."

"Why?" Zenon asked sharply, his head snapping to the two strangers. "He has been in my care since he was only a little under seven years. Why do you come for him now?"

"It was not to our knowledge that Harry had left the home of his aunt and uncle," Dumbledore explained. "It is very important that he return there."

"No," the brown minotaur growled.

"Excuse me?" The elderly human looked quite surprised that he was being denied.

"I said 'no'." He spoke slower, as though speaking to a two-year-old calf. "You say you did not know he was here until now. That only tells me he was placed there and not looked after. Not cared for. Now you show up and say he must return with no explanation other than 'it is important'." He leaned closer only a fraction. "Tell me why."

For the third time that day, Dumbledore retold the story of Voldemort's defeat by Harry when he was only a year old, though a shorter version of the whole story. Zenon listened to the old human, watching him with narrowed eyes. "I am not hearing the answer," he pointed out.

With a sigh, the Headmaster said, "There were blood wards around the home of Petunia and Vernon Dursley. By now, they are most likely gone because Harry has not been there in years. He has not called it home. But when he was there, the wards kept out anyone who wished to cause him harm. When he returns, they can be created once again."

"It failed," Zenon huffed. "Otherwise, Mother Gaia would not have brought him here."

"Now see here," Fudge suddenly spoke up. "No matter the situation, Harry Potter is a citizen of Great Britain's Magical Community. Him being here is illegal! He is not supposed to be here!"

"Evidently, he is," Zenon shot back at the man.

"We can easily rectify that, Minister Fudge," Felix informed him. "It will only take a few bits of paperwork. Harry can have his citizenship into our community and choose where he wishes to live within a few days."

"Why was this not done before?" Zenon asked, his gaze turning to the Greek man.

"We did not know where he originally came from, and that information is required," Felix explained, turning to the minotaur. "Besides, no one came for him until now. He has legally been a ward of Greece. That paperwork I did fill." He looked back to the two Englishmen. "Harry is an orphan child-" Zenon growled lowly. "Apologies. Was an orphan child that no relations came to retrieve. If he was placed in that household by you and you took the time to set up blood wards, then you should have been alerted when he vanished. Meaning you should have had a way to track him and you could have reclaimed him. Seeing as you did not, he became a ward of Greece until we could find the necessary information to make him a full-fledge citizen."

"Be that as it may, I must insist Harry return to his relative's home," Dumbledore stated. "As I mentioned, I fear his followers will come after him."

"You fear the spectral will rise again and young Harry is the only one who can truly end it once it returns to your world," Taras corrected, earning a startled look from Zenon, confusion from Felix, and shock from Fudge. Though Dumbledore merely looked at him, studying him, as though trying to find out how this great beast knew that. "The Fates will ensure Harry is ready when they feel he is ready. For right now, he is but a child. He has lived a good childhood with us, safe and loved. He just completed his first hunt yesterday, in fact."

"But he must return there!" Dumbledore firmly stated.

Zenon reared back only enough for his spine to be straight while his ears laid flat. "My son is safer here than anywhere else," he said, low but with danger being a heavy undertone. "You proved incompetence in his care. You left him in that home and ignored his existence until now. I will bet both my horns that you were not even aware of his bedroom being a cupboard!"

Felix looked at Dumbledore in disgusted shock. When he first met Harry, the child was very shy and very malnourished. He suspected he came from an abusive home, especially with how he kept looking to Zenon for silent permission before he so much as breathed. Fudge just looked angered.

"Absolutely preposterous!" the man exclaimed. "He was in a good home until you beasts took him away!"

"Minister Fudge!" Felix shouted in anger, hearing the deep rumbles from the two minotaurs, as well as Zenon looking like he was ready to charge the foolish foreigner. "That was completely uncalled for! Besides, how can a minotaur move from Crete to Britain and back without anyone seeing him? It is ridiculous! They have small traces of magic, but not enough to pull something like that!"

"As said before, it was the Mother who brought him here," Taras pointed out with a grumble. "Why? We do not know. But she brought him to us to raise and protect. She can tell he is a very special child. He would not have survived long in his previous home. If it could be called such." He snorted with a shake of his head. "Though my sight was weak then, I could see his bones protruding. His face shallow. His eyes dying, so very close to taking that final step over the edge. Here, with us, he has grown and blossomed. His strength still grows, mind expanding, eyes glowing."

"Tell me something, old one," Zenon scoffed. "You act as though Harry is truly important to you and your country. If the Fates have a plan for him, very well. Bear this in mind, though. If he truly is so important to your people, then why did you not keep a closer eye on him? Why did he starve? Why was he locked into a dark cupboard day after day?" His eyes narrowed. "Why did you sit back and let it happen?"

For a moment, no one dared to speak. Though the mind of Albus Dumbledore was in turmoil. Yes, he knew the boy would not be raised like he was another son by Petunia. He knew that the child would not be well taken care of. But with the blood wards in place, no stray Death Eater could reach him. No one could kill the boy before he could finish Voldemort off once and for all.

Not to mention that the boy would come to Hogwarts, broken down into a mold ready to be shaped. He would grow up as a normal boy believing magic to be fairy tale only to realize he possessed the wondrous gift. And after being raised by cruel hands, Harry would easily accept him as a mentor to properly guide him. Dumbledore's hands were meant to take that broken mold and turn it into the Savior.

Yet he did not stay in that house. He vanished from it without triggering a single alarm. Even if he Apparated by accident, the wards would have alerted him and he would return Harry to his relatives' home. Not a single one made a sound for four years. He did not even suspect the boy was elsewhere until he saw the letter.

Now he knows about magic. Now he has been raised with others that stole the mold from him. These beasts took his mold and crafted him into something else. Harry would not be the Savior that they need. Not unless Dumbledore can break the child free of their hold, shatter the chains they bound him with, and recreated the mold into the Savior that Harry is meant to be.

"If it is well enough for you," Dumbledore said lowly, plan formulating in his mind. "I would like to speak to Harry myself."

Zenon's lips curled, but he nodded his consent. "Head outside to the fire pit," he told them with a jerk of his head. "Felix knows where it is should you miss it. If the Prime Minister of Magic does not mind."

"Not at all," Felix answered with a smirk. "I brought them here, they are my responsibility. Best make sure I do not leave them alone to cause any trouble."

"It is appreciated, my friend," Taras said with a polite nod.

"Then I will locate Harry and bring him to them," Zenon sighed as he rose, his hooves nearly thudding on the ground. "I will return as swiftly as I can."

 **Change Here**

Harry sighed heavily as he watched Argyros and Altair wrestle. Though the minotaur has his bulk and strength, the faun has his small size and speed. They were almost even.

"It gets kind of dull after a while, yes?" the female next to him asked, her hand on her cheek as her poison yellow eyes watched the duo. Her elbow rested on her serpentine tail that could easily wrap around Harry a few times and crush him within seconds. The coloring was mud brown that had grass green diamonds patterns with corn yellow centers. Her human skin was a deep tan, a strip of deer hide wrapped around her budding breasts, and her hair a blood red, small gems of various colors decorating the locks.

Not many knew, but gorgons did not have snakes for hair. Medusa did because she angered Athena when she had sex with Poseidon in the Goddess's temple. She was cursed to her form because of the act. Other gorgons had simple, every day hair. Though some were known to hide smaller serpents in their locks just to scare others.

"Yeah," Harry replied with a huff. "Hey, Drucilla."

The gorgon hummed, looking to the human boy next to her. "Yes, Harry?"

"What should we do to break them up this time?" he asked with a wicked grin.

Drucilla's lips parted into a wide smile, revealing her sharper teeth. "Perhaps find Maris to help us again this time. We are near her river, after all. And she has missed the past couple fights."

"Think we can manage to throw them into the river?"

Uncoiling from her position, Drucilla towered over Harry, though he felt no fear. She giggled before turning and slithering off. "Be right back!"

The young centaur with him shook his head as they watched the gorgon leave. "You know she is most likely going to convince Maris to–"

"Yeah, I know," Harry chuckled with a wave of his hand. "Unless you have a better idea, Lucian, I'm going to let her."

Lucian shook his head in denial, his blonde hair brushing his bronze shoulders. His palomino equine body tucked more into itself when Altair managed to trip Argyros over, causing the minotaur to tumble. "They really do get into it, though."

"I don't understand why they don't like each other," Harry admitted. "I mean, Argyros tried, but I guess he just got annoyed. Or Altair pulled a prank and started this. I don't know. They used to get along just fine at first and now this."

The centaur shrugged his shoulders. Being the same age as Harry, he did not understand the older boys acting so hostile to each other either. The girls would giggle about it, so he knew they knew something. Probably thought it was more fun to let the boys figure it out on their own.

"Um, does anyone else see that?" their more recently added companion, a male wood nymph, asked as he pointed to the large bubble of water floating over the two oblivious creatures. His bark-colored hair was short, barely touching his sharp ears. A vine was wrapped around his forehead to keep the longer bangs from poking his lilac eyes. Unlike the darker tone of the other boys, the nymph had pale skin, but not an unhealthy shade. His clothing only covered his lower half, made of vines that were stitched together to act as loose fitting slacks.

"You get used to it, Silas," the nearby harpy giggled, her clawed hands covering her thin lips as red eyes watched the bubble burst, dropping gallons of water on the pair. Her midnight feathers ruffled from the tenseness of her body holding back her laughter, though it still tried to slip through her lips. Finally, her hands flew into her curled pitch locks, gripping tightly as she laughed loudly.

Altair and Argyros stood where they were, the faun's hair almost covered his eyes and Argyros dripping nearly all over. Turning to the laughing group, the two shook, sending a shower to the others.

The harpy shrieked, jumping back to avoid the water, as Silas ducked down and turned his head. Lucian couldn't get up and away fast enough, so ended up with his human half getting wet as well as his front legs. Harry just ducked behind the tree behind him, sparing himself the watery punishment. Not many would realize just how much water a faun and minotaur could hold or how far their shaking could throw it until they experience it themselves.

"You shouldn't have laughed at them, Nyssa," Lucian grumbled.

"It was funny!" Nyssa defended, shaking the water from her feathers. "Thanks a lot, boys!"

"That was great!" Drucilla yelled out as she approached the group. Behind her, a naiad stepped out. Her white hair shined faint traces of blue as the sun caught it, highlighting the sapphire coloring of her irises. Her outfit looked to be made of seaweed wrapped around her chest and long grass acting as a skirt around her waist. "Maris, you get better at it every time!"

"Should have known," Argyros grumbled, running his wet hand over his soaked face. Altair nodded, his expression in a grumpy pout.

"You kind of deserved it," Harry chuckled. "Both of you."

"Just a dominance thing," Argyros excused with a shrug. Honestly, he didn't know why the faun drove him so crazy. Beyond the fact of trying to steal Harry from him all the time.

Altair nodded in agreement then jabbed his thumb to the minotaur. "He is fun to annoy," he explained with a grin before shaking his head to rid it of water again.

"You two are insufferable sometimes," the naiad commented. "Though I am glad to break you two up. I can practice control a bit more!"

"Glad to be of assistance, Maris," the minotaur grumbled, giving his body another shake. "Can you use less water next time?"

"Go lay on the grass and let Apollo dry you," Silas suggested with a playful grin.

"Here, let me," Harry said, directing a burst of warm air to circle the two until they were mostly dry. He did the same for Nyssa and Lucian. Silas didn't seem at all bothered with the droplets on his body, instead spreading the water over his skin to be absorbed.

"Thanks, Harry!" Nyssa sighed happily, her wings open. "Much better!"

"Water won't kill you, you know," Maris pointed out.

"You have fins, I have wings," Nyssa shot back. "I am meant to fly in the air, not be soaked to the bone."

Maris was about to point out that undines have fins, not her people, when Silas looked over to the naiad and offered her a small smirk. "No use arguing with a harpy, Maris," he stated, lightly chuckling. "That's a fight you won't win."

"Hey!" the harpy shrieked. "What's that supposed to mean, nymph?!"

"Nothing!" Silas laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender while leaning back.

Sniffing dignifiedly, Nyssa accepted the surrender. "It better!"

"Touchy," Drucilla commented under her breath.

Lucian stood, smile on his lips as he looked to the gorgon. "Normally," he offered.

"True."

Nyssa huffed again, turning her nose up with the intent to ignore them. The rest laughed at her antics, soon drawing her into a giggle as well.

"Harry!" someone called out, making the group turn to see Zenon approaching them.

Though always glad to see his father, the minotaur seeking him out like this instead of waiting for him to come home was worrying. "Is something wrong, Dad?" Harry asked, concerned that there was a chore he did not complete. He was sure he did his usual chores before asking to play with his friends. And there were no more lessons today. Zenon never treated him like his abusive relatives did, but those memories, while locked away, still influenced his mind. Spinning fear where it was not needed.

"You and Argyros need to come back home," he said, looking to his nephew as well before back at his son. "We have some visitors and they want to speak with you." His lips curled back, showing his agitation. "More like _to_ you and expect you to obey."

"Who is it, sir?" Lucian asked, his tail swishing anxiously.

"Should we come, too?" Silas added.

"We should!" Drucilla exclaimed. "If they want to know anything about Harry, we can tell them!"

"Can we?" Maris jumped in this time.

"He's our friend, you know!" Nyssa threw in. "So should something happen to him, we deserve to know about it."

"Or be there for him," Altair stated.

Zenon moved to silence them, then paused before smirking. "I think that would be a good idea," he agreed. "All of you should come along."

The group of young ones cheered.

 **Here the Chapter Ends**

 **Okay, so Dumbledore will meet Harry (and all his friends) next chapter. Oh, boy.**

 **So, as you noticed, I tried to give him a variety of friends. For crying out loud, the kid is in Crete raised by minotaurs! He's gonna meet other creatures! And in case anyone says anything, yes I make the clothing out of things around them. The human clothing of this time does not settle well for them and they have just had an easier time with clothing made of various items found in their environment, from pelts to plants (concerning the nymphs).**

 **Anyway, let me know what you think!**

 **And in case anyone gets confused as to who is who (or wants to know what their names mean) look below:**

 **Lucian – Bringer of Light – Centaur Age 11**

 **Altair – Star – Faun Age 12**

 **Argyros- Silver – Minotaur Age 12**

 **Silas – Asked For – Wood Nymph Age 12**

 **Felix – Fortunate or Happy - Greek Prime Minister of Magic**

 **Vernandos – Strong as a Bear – Felix's last name**

 **Titos – To Honor – Minotaur - Grandson to Elder Taras**

 **Nestor – One Who is Departing – Minotaur – Elder of the Gergo Herd**

 **Drucilla – The Strong One – Gorgon Age 11**

 **Maris – Of the Sea – Naiad (Water Nymph) Age 11**

 **Nyssa – Beginning – Harpy Age 12**

 **Melina – Honey – Human Assistant to Felix**

 **Hope that clears up some confusion!**


	6. Speaking to Harry

**Finally! The moment we have been waiting for! Again!**

 **Harry meets Dumbledore!**

 **(crowd cheering)**

 **How shall this one go, my faithful readers? Well continue on and find out!**

 **Just gotta stop you for this one last bit. Then go on…**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any form of Greek mythology.**

 **Okay, one last thing. POV changes a lot. Some paragraphs will be Dumbledore POV, some will be Harry, and some will be other characters. I will try to make it clear who's POV I am jumping into.**

 **Here the Chapter Starts**

The fire pit was just that, a deep hole in the ground full of burnt wood and large stones circling the edge of the pit. It was roughly four feet deep with a ten foot diameter. Dumbledore stood next to Fudge while Felix lingered with the other members of the herd close by. It surprised the elderly Headmaster that the Prime Minister of Magic could be so civil to these dark creatures of violence and bloodshed. Or how such obvious creatures of light managed to be poisoned by their influence.

"Albus," Fudge called him. "This is not going so well."

"It soon will, Cornelius," Dumbledore reassured the nearly panicking minister.

"He has been raised by dark creatures, Albus! How can this get better?"

"Harry is still young," the Headmaster pointed out calmly, his eyes looking over the unusual herd. "He can still be persuaded to the safety of home with his relatives."

"Honestly, how will I be re-elected should word of this get out?" Fudge muttered, dabbing his sweaty forehead with his handkerchief. "First, the Boy-Who-Lived disappeared without anyone knowing for four years. Then we find him in the middle of a herd of dangerous beasts. What else could go wrong?!"

"Everything will be fine, Cornelius," Dumbledore reassured once more, growing tired of the frantic rambling. Especially considering the dark looks they were receiving from some of the herd. No doubt they had advance hearing and knew exact what Fudge was saying. "Just allow me to speak with the boy. And do not interrupt. I will do all the talking."

Scowling at the Headmaster, Fudge inhaled deeply. "Very well, very well!" he conceded. "But should this go south, I want you to know this will be on your head!"

He knows that. Though still unsure how his alarms could not signal Harry's disappearance for four years, Dumbledore knows that if he does not get Harry back to his relatives, then everything will fall apart. He won't be the humble boy that is neglected and abused his whole life, wanting to make friends with the right people that Dumbledore approves of and doing everything in his power to protect them. Perhaps this is still salvageable. It will take work, but perhaps.

Hearing Fudge's loud gasp of shock and seeing the startled looked he sent to Dumbledore, the elderly wizard looked as well. He barely held back his own gasp.

The minotaur Zenon had returned, Harry to his left and another minotaur, a young silver one, to his right. Next to Harry was a palomino centaur and a gorgon, as well as a blonde boy wearing pants made of vines. To the silver minotaur's side was a faun, a harpy, and a girl with white-blue hair. What manner of creatures sunk their claws and fangs into the boy?

The harpy was originally perched on the silver minotaur's shoulders before spotting him, then her wings opened and she flew straight at them. Fudge, in a manner of shock, did not move as the avian creature suddenly stopped in front of them. Her red eyes took in both of them, lips curling into a sneer as her wings worked to keep her airborne.

"Already, I don't like either of you," she informed them with a huff.

"Nyssa, try and be polite," the centaur advised as the strange group approached.

Turning around, the harpy flew to the centaur. For a moment, Dumbledore feared the dangerous avian would attack the young centaur, preparing to draw his wand in the colt's defense. Instead, she landed on his back, clawed feet not even digging into the still soft flesh as her hands clasped her shoulders, wing-arms crossed to cover her nude human torso.

"I'll have you know, Lucian, that was polite," she stated. "I could have just been hostile without explanation."

The gorgon giggled behind her hand, shocking blood red hair glittering with precious stones spilling over her shoulders. Dumbledore thought gorgons had snake hair. Yet it could not be a naga, for it was female and most naga were known to be male, nor a lamia, since it did look half human. "She has a point," the gorgon giggled behind her hand.

"I know," the centaur, Lucian, sighed with a shake of his head.

Eyes narrowed, the faun approached them next. First he looked over Fudge before making his way to Dumbledore. He scoffed at the elderly man before going to Harry's side. Putting his panpipes to his lips, he played a few soft notes while keeping his eyes on the two. Harry looked at him curiously before answering back with his own panpipes.

"I hate it when you two do that," the silver minotaur commented, his ears flat but glare directed mainly at the faun.

The headmaster noticed it quickly. No doubt the dark beast wanted the creature of light as far from Harry as possible so he could keep his hold on the young human boy.

"I would have thought you used to it by now, Argyros," Harry told him with a grin.

"Alright, children, that's enough," Zenon chuckled as he sat upon one of the stones surrounding the pit. "Harry, this is Minister Fudge and Headmaster Dumbledore. The one who wants to talk to you is the headmaster."

Emerald eyes blinked at his father before Harry turned his attention to the two strangers. Felix was not too far away, seeming to be chatting with Kyma about a rare plant species she was tending. A small rush of relief flowed through him. With the Magical Prime Minister here, perhaps whatever these two men wanted with him would not end in complete disaster.

"Harry," Dumbledore greeted. "I must say, I am quite relieved to see you again."

Argyros stepped closer, eyes narrowed, as Harry looked to the old man uncertainly. "You know me?" he asked.

"Yes, and I knew your parents, James and Lily Potter," the elderly man replied with a nod. "They were very good friends of mine." He looked over the child briefly before offering a small smile. "I must say, if you cut your hair shorter, you would look a lot like your father, only with your mother's eyes."

"I can't look like Dad," Harry scoffed then turned to Zenon. "He's a minotaur. And I don't have a mother."

"I meant James and Lily, my boy," Dumbledore clarified then studied him again for a brief moment. "I am surprised you are not wearing glasses."

"Those ugly old things he was wearing when he first showed up?" Argyros chuckled. "Uncle Zenon tossed them and asked some of the witches and wizards to help Harry with his eyes."

"Now he sees everything before any of us!" the girl dressed in seaweed and grass commented with a bright smile. "He can spot me in the water before I can get the jump on anyone."

"I haven't had sight problems since I was seven," Harry stated with a shrug before nearly jumping. "Oh! I'm sorry for being so rude. These are my friends. The centaur is Lucian, naiad is Maris, gorgon is Drucilla, harpy is Nyssa, wood nymph is Silas, faun is Altair, and last but not least, my best friend Argyros. Obviously, he's a minotaur." As he introduced them, not only did he say what they were, but he also pointed them out to the elder.

"Pleased to meet you," Dumbledore greeted them, though was wary of a few. Mainly the minotaur, harpy, and gorgon. He had heard of nymphs, but not of naiads. He assumed fauns were much like centaurs, neutral but tend to drift more towards the lighter side of the spectrum.

"So who are you?" Silas asked.

"Forgive me for my lack of manners as well. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This is Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge."

"How is he Minister of Magic when the Prime Minister of Magic is Felix?" Argyros asked.

"We are from the United Kingdoms, further north than here," the Headmaster answered.

"And what brought you here?" Harry spoke up.

"Why, you did, Harry," Dumbledore stated with a grandfatherly smile.

Or attempted smile. Harry had seen the smile grandfathers give the younger ones. Elder Taras especially when Titos tells a story or accomplishes something, sometimes just smiling because he was glad to hear his grandson since he could no longer see him. It was not just the smile that made it so comforting from grandfathers and grandmothers. It was the look in the eyes. And though the blue eyes of the older man were twinkling, they were anything but the gaze of a grandfather.

"What does that mean?" Altair asked.

The headmaster noticed that while the words sounded simple, the faun was speaking as though it was something he was not used to doing. "Harry, your name was put into the registry for future students before you were even born," Dumbledore informed the human child. "When your letter was addressed here and not to your aunt and uncle's home like I suspected it would, I was concerned and came here as soon as I could."

"My aunt and uncle?" Harry repeated lowly, earning a low rumble from Argyros's chest. Zenon even offered a snarl.

"Yes, Petunia and Vernon Dursley, as well as your cousin, Dudley," the elderly headmaster said gently. "I am sure your disappearance troubled them greatly. They must still be so worried about you."

"More like worried they don't have someone to do every single chore in the house and cook for them!" Harry exclaimed angrily, earning Felix and Kyma's attention, as well as some of the herd. "They hated me! They beat me! Petunia Dursley even smacked my head with a hot skillet once because I burnt the bacon!"

"Now, Harry, I am sure that it was all a misunderstanding," he tried to placate the child. "Perhaps the skillet slipped from her fingers. And a few chores here and there is nothing drastic, nor is a few spankings."

Harry shook his head. "More like belting before being thrown into the cupboard under the stairs! Without any food for days!"

"Surely you must be mistaken, no one would starve a child. Hold back a few snacks, of course. But I do not believe they starved you, especially for days. It may have seemed like it when you were younger, but I doubt that was the way things were." He doubted even Petunia harbored that much hate.

"I am sure they did," Zenon spoke up with a deep rumble. "Withheld snacks won't leave even a human child in nothing but skin and bones. Harry was close to starving to death."

"Now, now, I doubt things were so terrible and possibly nothing more than a large misunderstanding," Dumbledore foolishly went on. He did not doubt that the Dursleys probably did not feed him as much as they eat themselves, but he obviously had enough food to stay alive. "After all, when Harry was only a baby, Petunia and Vernon took him in, gave him a home. They clothed him and fed him-"

"Did you not hear the part about them starving him?" the gorgon hissed angrily. "Until his bones stuck out?"

"I can still remember that," Argyros admitted with a shiver, looking down to the shorter human. "You were so tiny when Uncle Zenon was carrying you, Harry." Even four years later, thanks to their unique memory, he could see the tiny human child seeking shelter in his uncle's arms, scared of his surroundings. Hesitant to speak and looking as though the breeze could snap him in half like a dried flimsy twig ready to separate from the branch.

"And you were running to Aunt Kyma's garden trying to feed me fruits while keeping me from the vegetables," Harry recalled with a slight chuckle. "Mainly because vegetables were 'icky', I believe you said."

The silver minotaur only shrugged as the rest of their friends laughed at him. "I was eight!" he defended.

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Felix called to him as he approached the unusual gathering. "If I may interject."

He did not want the Greek man to say anything. Yet he knew the Magical Prime Minister would do so, permission or not. "Of course, Prime Minister."

"While you claim to doubt Harry's condition or the circumstances in which he was raised, you did not see him," Felix pointed out coldly. "You admitted to leaving Harry there in the care of his relatives, then vanished completely. You had no one check on the boy. No one to watch over him besides hateful family. You did not even bother looking for him until you noticed the address on his invitation."

"Invitation?" Harry questioned, but was shushed by his father for interrupting. The question can wait.

"However, a couple of days after Harry's arrival, I received a letter from Elder Taras asking that I come here to see Harry for myself. I saw him. I saw the clothes he was wearing when he first arrived, though was thankfully put into better fitting ones by Zenon. I even took pictures as evidence should his guardians try to reclaim him. Seeing as even he did not know where he was originally from, being denied such crucial knowledge, all I could do was wait until the time limit was up and make him a ward of Greece. If you wish to see the pictures, you need only ask."

Proof of the abuse? Now Dumbledore truly could not get out of the situation. "No need, Prime Minister," he said with a weary sigh. "If his condition truly was as terrible as you say it was, and have physical evidence of such, I will take your word on it."

Nyssa sneered then bent down to whisper into Lucian's pointed ears. "So when Zenon, Harry, and Argyros say the same thing, it's a 'misunderstanding'," she started. "But Felix says the same thing and suddenly, it's the truth?"

"Guy obviously does not like us and could care less what Harry says," the centaur returned, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. It wasn't just them that did not like this elderly human, either.

"There is still the matter of Harry's schooling," Dumbledore pointed out. Maybe not all was lost. He took the letter from his robes once more, handing it out for Harry to take.

Harry looked at the held-out letter then to Dumbledore before looking to his father. Zenon gave him a small nod then returned to glaring at the elderly human. The emerald-eyed human then turned to look at Argyros over his shoulder, seeking the comfort of his first friend. Argyros looked down at him, offering a small smile before nudging his head to the letter. It wouldn't hurt to at least look at it.

Inhaling deeply, Harry took the offered object before carefully opening it. Pulling the parchment from the envelope, he unfolded it before reading out loud. "Dear Mr. Potter. We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Indeed," Dumbledore said with a smile, though partially hidden by his mustache and beard. "There is no finer school."

"You're bias," Maris scoffed. "It cannot be the only school!"

"There is Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, one is in France and the other Bulgaria. Harry is a citizen of Great Britain, thus Hogwarts is the only school he would be able to attend."

"You think there are only those three schools on our continent, Headmaster?" Felix jumped in again. "There are schools here in Greece. We offer quite a course selection, preferring to allow the child to truly seek their calling instead of the usual courses and a few extracurricular classes. I was actually going to bring the Headmaster here to meet Harry personally tomorrow on his birthday."

"But Harry is only a ward, not a citizen."

"That does not mean we will deny him a proper education. I do not doubt that Hogwarts is as grand as I hear it is from the various folk that come here in the summer, but I refuse to stand here and let you tell him that it is his only option."

"Excuse me," Harry cut in, catching the attention of both men. "I will need a moment to think about this."

"Of course, my dear boy!" Dumbledore answered. "If you have any questions, I would be glad to answer them."

"I need to be alone," he told them then looked to his friends. "I mean it."

"If you say so, Harry," Drucilla replied first. The others nodded in agreement.

"Yell if you wander too far and need help," Nyssa advised.

"I'm just going to the tree line," Harry chuckled as he turned and walked from the group.

Zenon watched his son walk away, eyes never straying from his form. It was a bit much for him to decide.

On the one hand, he would get proper schooling instead of wandering around the herd, learning different lessons from various others. Granted everyone has their own point of view concerning subjects, as well as their own strengths and weaknesses. Not to mention the creature mates that vary amongst the herd that know more than most about certain things. He would still get proper schooling here in Greece should he decline, anyway.

On the other, should Harry accept the invite, he would be leaving Crete. He would be going far away from those that truly know and love him. He wouldn't be able to see his friends as often as he likes. And the biggest issue, he would be under the watch of the elderly human that obviously had plans for Harry and no one Harry trusted to protect him from outside influences will be with him.

Zenon did not doubt that the human would try something while Harry was away from them. He would probably try to place Harry back into the home of his relatives. In which case, he knows Felix can make a case against them. He may not be of Britain, but he is in a position of power and Harry is a ward of his country. Not to mention, after getting the required information, Felix may soon have Harry as a citizen.

Snorting, Zenon tore his eyes from his son's form, looking to Dumbledore instead. Argyros made his way over to the older minotaur, leaning against the rocks to watch Harry sit by a tree. Drucilla had coiled her snake body and laid on the coils. Nyssa did not leave Lucian's back, her red eyes glaring at the sweating Fudge. Lucian was conversing quietly with Silas and Maris. Altair paced anxiously, looking back and forth between Harry and the two foreigners.

"Quite a predicament," Felix sighed as he came to Zenon's side.

"Agreed," Zenon answered, eyes narrowed on the elderly human who looked as though he wanted to approach the thinking child but then took a look around and thought otherwise. At least he wasn't completely oblivious.

"Zenon, I want you to know," Felix started. "As far as I am aware or even care, Harry is your son. If this Dumbledore tries anything to remove him from your care without either of you wanting it, I will fight back. I will not sit idle and leave Harry in a place he won't be treated well in."

The large minotaur chuckled, looking down to one of the few humans outside of the herds that any minotaur could call 'friend'. "I appreciate it, Felix," he told him gently. "I am sure that you will not be the only one, either." He nudged his head to his nephew, whom had not torn his gaze from Harry.

Felix chuckled. "True. But perhaps a warning should Dumbledore get anything into his head. Best to burst that bubble before it forms."

With a nod, Zenon called out, "Albus Dumbledore." The elder looked to him curiously. "If we may speak."

"Of course!" Dumbledore accepted as he walked over to the large creature. "I assume it is about Harry."

"Would Uncle Zenon ask to speak with you about the flowers?" Argyros scoffed, earning a light hit on his arm from his uncle.

"Manners, Argyros," Zenon scolded.

"Yes, Uncle."

"There is something you should know, but it will require a bit of a history lesson," Zenon started, earning the attention of the other children as well, except from Argyros since he was raised with the history of their kind. It _may_ not be perfectly recorded on the scrolls the Two Brothers wrote on, but the stories were passed down through the generations until someone finally managed a way to preserve the old scrolls written by their ancestors.

"Very well." Dumbledore gave a flick of his wand before a cushioned chair appeared behind him. Sitting and making himself comfortable, he motioned for Zenon to continue.

Felix rolled his eyes at the authority Britain allowed Dumbledore if he thought acting like this was acceptable in different countries. He failed to realize that Zenon was offering to share and that Dumbledore's behavior could have insulted him. Judging from the glare, the minotaur was insulted by the superior attitude the elder possessed, believing he was in control while everyone else was simply doing his bidding.

Thankfully, this was more important. "Our species started from one being, the Minotaur of Crete, Asterios," he started. "Theseus of Athens came to Crete to stop the annual sacrificing King Minos demanded Athens pay, seven boys and seven girls for Asterios to devour. However, when Minos offered Theseus to Asterios, he did not devour him like Minos commanded. Instead, he made Theseus his mate.

"He already bore one son named Ambrus and was carrying the second that was named Isandro when he did kill Asterios. While Isandro was younger and wiser, Ambrus was quick to anger and often found comfort from various women. When Ambrus impregnated a priestess of Aphrodite, our Goddess of Love, he hid her. He also had three other women carrying his children, but it was this Priestess he worried for most.

"She bore him his first son, Bacchus. And when two of her acolytes gave birth to his sons Nicanor and Abiron, the priests of Aphrodite came to the palace to confront Ambrus about their missing priestess. They found her in his bed nursing his child. What started as an argument ended in a slaughter. He warned that he would kill in order to protect his four sons and their mothers. Isandro's intervention was the only reason why two priests and King Theseus survived his rage.

"I'm hoping that I am making my point with this story," Zenon growled lowly.

Though Dumbledore could see a point, he was more focused on the history of violence from the first generations of the minotaurs. He doubted that the first Minotaur and Theseus had a loving relationship, meaning it was more than likely rape that occurred. Not to mention the appetite for human flesh the first had. Then the sons. While one was not mentioned beyond a name and a couple qualities, the other was apparently a raging monster.

Not to mention impregnating a human male. There are plenty of homosexuals in the Wizarding World, yet the marriages were all heterosexual due to same sex couplings being unable to produce children of their own. Family lines had to continue. What manner of magic did these creatures hold in order to impregnate men? It had to be a manner of Dark Magic. Though the birth of a child is always a grand thing, Dumbledore took a moment to look around and noticed that all the children were minotaurs, for the exception of the creatures Harry called 'friends'. The magic only allowed beast blood to pass on, father to son.

"Pay attention!" the harpy nearly shrieked, causing Fudge to jump. Dumbledore only flinched.

"Nyssa," Altair sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping.

"In case you are missing it," Zenon spoke, glowering at Dumbledore. "Let me spell it out for you. Ambrus killed to defend his family. Harry is my family. And although I am a descendant of Isandro, that will not cloud me from the obvious fact. I, much like my many-times-great uncle, will defend my son. I will defend my family. Should you try anything that renders him harm, I will hunt you down. And you should expect no mercy."

Fudge suddenly shouted. "Now see here! You cannot just make a threat against someone and expect no repercussions!"

"Actually, he can," Felix pointed out. "The only one who could punish him for it is Elder Taras. The Minotaur Herds are not a part of a community outside their own. The Regulations for Creature Control shifted decades ago by one of my predecessors who actually took the time to go out into the world and get to know the creatures of Greece. So, technically speaking, they do not have to follow our laws. We simply make suggestions to the more sentient species that help keep the peace and they decide among themselves whether to take that advice or leave it. The only ones regulated are the aggressive or non-sentient creatures such as hydras and chimeras. Besides, this is not your country. Your laws cannot touch them, either, Minister Fudge. They are not the responsibility of your country nor do they live amongst your people."

The gorgon snickered. "You can't do anything!" she sang tauntingly.

"And should they actually do any harm to humans, wizard or muggle?" Dumbledore asked.

"Then we step in and clear things up," Felix replied smoothly. "Otherwise, we leave them to their business with the occasional visit. Need to keep up relations, as you know, to prevent future mistakes."

 **Change Here With Harry - After Walking Off**

Letting out a low sigh, Harry dropped to the ground, crossing his legs as he leaned against the nearby tree. Tilting his head back, his emerald gaze met the sun filtering through the leaves.

What was he to do?

The wind whispered into his ear, faint traces of words carried in the breeze, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. "I'm sorry, Mother Gaia, I can't hear you," he whispered with a shake of his head. Leaves fell from the tree, brushing his cheek soothingly as they fell. "I can only learn so much here," he sighed. "And now that people back where I came from know where I am, more will come. But I don't want to leave here. This is home. My Dad and my friends are all here."

"That doesn't mean you won't make more," a chiming voice drifted to him.

Harry jumped, his head turning this way and that to locate the speaker. "Who's there?" he asked.

The voice giggled. "No one who wishes you harm, child," the voice answered. "I offer you guidance."

"Are you the Mother?" Though often hearing whispers in the wind, Harry never could hear her clearly. He did not know her voice so well.

"I am a descendant. I am the one who was born from the sea foam after Uranus's castration. I aided to bewitch a Queen into loving an animal and coaxed his seed to fertilize her egg."

"The Goddess Aphrodite!" Harry gasped in realization.

"Indeed. Now, child, you should know something. There is a great path set before you. You should go to this school. You may be far from home, but it is the first step to your destination. Your first trial. And there will be many. No Hero in history suffered only one and earned their place immediately."

"But I'm no Hero," he mumbled.

There was a vast difference between Hero and hero. A hero was someone who did something brave and earned the respect or love of the people. They risk their own lives to protect others, or simply noticed someone was in trouble and did everything in their power to help.

A Hero was selected by the Gods and sent on various adventures and trials, facing all manners of beasts and monsters. Heracles is one such Hero, as is Achilles and Athena's favored human Odysseus.

"Chin up, my child," she chuckled softly. "Not all Heroes start as such. Some were every day mortals such as yourself. Whether it be by our will or their own, they became what they were meant to be. Now, this school will give you several trials. You must overcome each of them. As you claim victory over each task, you will grow stronger, more powerful, until you are ready to take your destiny."

"What is my destiny?"

"Many have asked. And like the ones before, you will find the answer in due time. Now return to your father, child. Tell them you will attend. And never let your guard down around the Headmaster. He will try to manipulate you and pull you from your family."

With a nod of his head, Harry answered, "Yes, Goddess." He rose to his feet, turning to the group to see Zenon standing over Dumbledore threateningly. The Minister, Fudge if he recalled, shouted at Zenon before Felix jumped in. With a small sigh and feeling like he was walking to his execution, Harry approached.

Argyros spotted him first, seconds before Altair, who perked up and smiled brightly. But it was Argyros who saw how troubled Harry was, even past his smiling mask. "You okay?" he whispered once Harry was next to him.

"Yeah," he replied with a nod of his head. "I just had a very interesting experience. I'll tell you and Dad about it later."

"Deal," Argyros accepted with a smirk.

Turning to the conversation the adults were having, he caught the end of Felix's statement about keeping relations. "Excuse me," he called, earning a few startles and all eyes on him. "I will only attend your school, Headmaster, under one condition. Every school holiday, Christmas and summer especially, I will return home. I will come back here. Back to my Dad and my friends. If I find myself anywhere near the house of my aunt and uncle, I will leave your school and your country. I will receive my schooling here in Greece."

Knowing that with actual proof of the abuse in the hands of a foreign power, Dumbledore wouldn't have much choice. Especially since Harry announced this in front of everyone. If he did not come back here, they would suspect something and intrude upon his plans. Perhaps he could convince the boy to return to his relatives. Not here, though. It would only ruin this chance. During school, he will try.

"Very well, dear boy," Dumbledore replied. "I accept the condition. I will send one of my teachers here tomorrow to take you to Diagon Alley in London."

"Does he have his school list?" Felix asked suddenly, crossing his arms.

"Yes, it is with his invitation," the elderly Headmaster said.

"Harry, may I see it?" The Magical Prime Minister asked, holding his hand out.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, handing the letter and supply list to the man.

His deep brown eyes scanned over the list before he nodded. "We, of course, have a shopping area for our community," he pointed out casually. "Harry can buy all of this there."

"Be that as it may, Harry will need to come to Gringotts in order to claim his vault from James and Lily," Dumbledore stated in response.

A lot hum escaped the Magical Prime Minister. "Very well," he accepted, now that Gringotts may have branches throughout the continent, the vault mentioned would only be in the branch that holds it. "Though I assume he must have a parent or guardian with him. In which case, Zenon." The minotaur almost puffed up his chest, using his larger size and obvious strength as an intimidating factor to challenge the elderly man.

"I am afraid that a minotaur wandering Diagon Alley will cause panic, Prime Minister," Dumbledore commented, almost smugly. "In any case, the teacher I send to collect him will suffice."

"Ah, but we know nothing of this teacher. How will we know Harry is truly safe in their hands?"

"I can assure that Harry will be in safe hands."

"Your assurance means nothing," Zenon growled. "If my presence will trouble the humans of your country, then I will ask someone I can trust with Harry's safety to go in my stead."

"Then it is settled!" Felix exclaimed happily, clasping his hands together loudly as his smile beamed triumphantly.

Seeing that he was outmatched, Dumbledore wisely accepted his defeat. Getting Harry Potter away from these creatures will be more difficult than he anticipated. Hopefully during the school year, he will have better luck.

 **Here the Chapter Ends**

 **First, I have no clue how things work in Britain or Greece concerning the wards and the citizens. That is just what I am going with for right now.**

 **Second, don't say anything about how easily Harry accepted Aphrodite's instruction to go to Hogwarts. She is a Goddess, do as she says.**

 **Third, Zenon didn't kick up a fuss only because Harry jumped in before he could with that condition. Seeing that Harry thought of it so quickly, he was only semi-fine. He does not like Dumbledore, obviously, but if Harry says he'll go to Hogwarts, then Zenon isn't going to stop him unless he feels that Harry's life is in serious danger. Then we get Papa Minotaur Mode.**

 **Just putting those out there. If you see anything else that bothered you, send me a note and I'll try to explain it.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	7. Shopping and Revelations

**And here we are again. Harry is to be take shopping and if I can manage it, will be on his way to Hogwarts by the end of the chapter. Who will go in Zenon's place? Read and see!**

 **I suck at Hagrid's accent. Imagine it for yourself.**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or anything related to Greek Mythology.**

 **Here the Chapter Starts**

"Harry, are you sure about this?" Zenon asked him for the sixth time since they approached the fire pit, waiting for the teacher Dumbledore was going to send.

"I'll be fine, Dad," he reassured for the sixth time.

He told everyone shortly after Dumbledore and Fudge left about Aphrodite communicating with him. While still apprehensive about letting Harry go, they understood that there was not much they could do. A goddess reached out to Harry and told him to attend, to consider it a trial. It still made Zenon and everyone else uneasy, but it was not their place to challenge Aphrodite's will.

"Relax, Zenon," Atlas chuckled, giving his older brother a playful shove. "I'd like to see anyone try anything with Kyma around him. Harmless she may seem, but I know my mate. And she has a fire inside her! Especially in bed."

"Dad, please, stop," Argyros groaned, his ears lowering as his face pinched, body flinching away.

"Really, Uncle Atlas?" Harry added in with a groan of his own, slapping his hands over his ears and burying his face into Argyros's arm.

"One day, you two will find mates and want to share all your experience with them to anyone who will listen," Atlas pointed out smugly. "Or make comments about it."

"Alright, that's enough, love," Kyma giggled. "At least before you scar the children."

"Argyros is twelve now, Harry eleven since this morning," her mate stated matter-of-factly. "Happy Birthday, Harry."

"Thanks," Harry groaned, not wanting to uncover his ears just yet in case Atlas said something else.

"Wait a few more years, little brother," Zenon suggested, bumping his shoulder against his brother's. "Then you can tease them about mates."

"I'm only saying!"

Harry did manage to smirk at his family's antics. As always, when the anxiety was thick enough to be sliced by a dull blade, someone managed to lift it with humor. Harry just wished that he would spend his birthday with his family and friends instead of shopping for a school that he will attend in another country. Never mind the country is where he was born and grew up until coming to Greece.

"I really wish I could go with you, Harry," Argyros said lowly, his large hoof kicking the dirt.

Offering the silver minotaur a comforting smile, Harry patted his carrying sack. "I got the Talk Doll," he informed the other. "If you already finished the other one."

"Yeah, I really only needed to add on the bit of you to it," Argyros admitted. "I kind of already made it before giving you mine. I just needed something from you. Though I have to confess, having your hair does make it look a lot better."

Quirking an eyebrow, Harry asked, "And if I refused to hand anything of mine over?"

Argyros shrugged. "It would work, just not so well." His ears suddenly perked as a grin spread across his lips. "Try and contact me through it when you get to Britain. It will be a good way to test distance!"

"I will," Harry promised, returning the grin.

"They're coming!" Kyma suddenly exclaimed before a pair of men holding a rope appeared before them.

One was a young man who would wander the forest often, finding the herds more often than not, as well as other creatures. His hair was sandy colored, reaching to the nape of his neck. His bangs stretched as far as his high cheekbones, brushed to the side to avoid his jade eyes. Due to his easy-going attitude, they felt no threat from the young man during his travels. He would take notes on the species, talk about writing a book to give people an accurate view of them so less fear in the world could coax co-existence, perhaps by a few decades if humanity was informed of their existence. Word in the herds was that he was actually considering a certain minotaur's offer of mating in the Theron Herd.

The other was a large man, head covered with enough hair to block out nearly everything but his face and some of his mouth. Though the wild mane reigned over his cranium, they could still see him smiling joyously at them and the surrounding area. His clothes looked more like various patches stitched together since nothing would be considered his size. His beady eyes landed on Harry before his large arms suddenly swung forward. "Harry!" he called. "Look at you! I haven't seen you since you was a baby!"

"You know me as well?' Harry asked hesitantly.

"Of course, everyone in the Wizarding World knows you," the large man pointed out. "You're famous!"

"Who are you and why is Harry famous?" Zenon asked, stepping forward enough to cover Harry from the view of the unusual man. His size suggested giant blood, but Giants were killed by Heracles centuries ago. Unless more existed elsewhere, and that did not bode well for the minotaur.

"Hagrid's the name," the man introduced himself. "Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. I am here to take Harry to Diagon Alley to shop for his supplies."

"Doesn't answer the 'him being famous' part," Argyros pointed out, nearly pressing himself against his friend. The title the huge human used did not sound like a teaching position. Didn't the old Headmaster say he was sending a teacher, not a groundskeeper?

"He's famous because of his defeat over Voldemort," the young man stated with a knowing smirk. Hagrid seemed to jerk at the name, which cause confusion among those that saw. "Supposedly, the guy was so powerful and scary, that people were afraid to speak his name. But he was beat by little baby Harry, at the cost of his parents' lives. Stories say, Harry, that this 'Killing Curse' he shot at you rebound from you and hit him, destroying his body."

"That's terrible!" Kyma exclaimed, her arms suddenly around the human child she proudly called nephew. "Speak no more of it, Silvanos!"

"So he's famous," Atlas drawled out. "Because he survived a curse that kills. Anyone ever think that maybe that's a bad thing to be famous for? His parents were killed!"

Zenon was more bothered by the fact that Dumbledore did not mention Harry's fame. He wanted to throw Harry into a world where everyone heard of him without warning. A rumble vibrated across his torso, lips twitching into a sneer.

"How did you know all that, anyway?" Hagrid asked, looking down at the young man curiously. "You're a muggle, after all." He did not say it insultingly. He was quite curious as to how someone outside of their world knew that.

The blonde shrugged nonchalantly. "I travel for a living," he answered. "I learn things, earn names, other such stuff. Anyway!" He clapped his hands together, rubbing them eagerly. "Who's going with Harry and Hagrid? I gotta stay here until they get back since the Portkey is made for three, or less, and not four."

"I'm going, Sil!" Kyma replied with a wave of her hand, wrapping the other arm around Harry's shoulder. "It's easier for me to blend in than the men. Not to mention, should something go afoul, I have the better connection with the Mother to get us safely back home. If she will."

Sil nodded, accepting the choice. "Alright, just take the rope. Have fun. Be safe. Bring me back a souvenir!"

"He's almost as hyper as Mom," Argyros muttered to Harry, who chuckled with a nod. "Seriously, though. Be careful. Just because Mom is going with you doesn't mean you can let your guard down."

"Stay watchful of everything and everyone, son," Zenon advised, placing his hand on Harry's free shoulder gently. "If you should find yourself in trouble, remember. You are not defenseless."

"You be careful, too, love," Atlas told his mate, ears slightly lower and worry in his eyes. "You're going to a place that probably does not have any experience with a nymph. So watch yourself over there."

"We'll be fine," Kyma reassured him, leaving Harry's side long enough to encircle her arms around Atlas's neck and plant a firm kiss to his lips. She pulled away with a smirk before he returned the small peck with his own, deeper kiss.

"Mom! Dad!" Argyros exclaimed. "Not in front of the son!"

"It's a wonder why I do not have more nephews and possibly the rare niece," Zenon commented then shook his head before brushing back a stray hair from Harry's forehead. "Take care and watch yourself."

"I will, Dad. Promise," Harry returned, patting his father's hand before stepping towards Hagrid and Sil. "Aunt Kyma. We gotta go!"

"Oh, alright!" Kyma sighed dramatically before tracing her finger down Atlas's jaw. "We'll pick this up when I get back."

"Deal," Atlas rumbled wantonly.

"Mom! Dad!" their son yelled again.

"Let's go!" Kyma cried out, prancing over to Harry's side. "So what do we have to do?"

"Just grab hold of this," Hagrid instructed, holding the rope up. "Once you got a grip, I'll activate it. It's easy!"

Exchanging a final look to his father, Harry inhaled deeply and grasped the rope the same time Kyma's nimble fingers wrapped around it.

"Now hold on tight, else you may end up somewhere else," Hagrid warned. "Sugar Quills."

Both Harry and Kyma felt hooks latch onto their navels before everything was suddenly a whirlwind of color. Wind rushed by their ears, hair whipping their faces despite the binds. Briefly, Harry had the urge to vomit. This was easily the worst way he had ever traveled.

Just as suddenly as they were snatched up and tossed through the sky like a frisbee, they landed in a dirty alleyway make of concrete. Kyma looked around franticly at the lack of greenery in the area, her bare feet starting to grow sore from the pressure of man-made stone against her soles instead of soft grass and gentle dirt.

"This is all wrong," she whispered, seeing nothing but stone and concrete, not even a weed trying to spout from a crack. The air was thick with poison instead of crisp and clean.

"Nope, we're exactly where we're supposed to be!" Hagrid commented, looking around happily, oblivious to the nymph's anxiety.

Harry grasped his aunt's hand, feeling her limb tremble. "I'm sorry, Aunt Kyma," he said. "If we knew how it was over here, we would have asked someone else to come with me."

Looking down at her nephew, she inhaled deeply, nearly gagging at the corrupted air, and shook her head. "No, I will be fine," she gently replied. "It is a very big shock. Wood nymphs are not meant for man-made stone."

"Come on, entrance is over here," Hagrid directed, leading the two into the pub they appeared next to.

A sign hung over the door, identifying the pub as The Leaky Cauldron. The image of a witch stirring a spilling over cauldron hung under the title. The building looked older than others, completely out of place even. Yet people walked right by it, oblivious to its presence. Hagrid opened the door for them, allowing Kyma to enter first, then Harry, before following after them.

Though everyone turned to look at the new arrivals, some in awe of Kyma's unique appearance, only the bartender greeted them. "Hello, Hagrid! Same as usual?"

"Not today, Tom," Hagrid declined with a bright grin. "Taking young Harry here shopping for his supplies."

Dark eyes glanced at the boy before growing wide when seeing the scar on the forehead. "Well I'll be…Harry Potter?" All activity froze, eyes suddenly on the raven boy. Harry tried not to squirm uncomfortably at the sudden limelight cast over him.

"He is Harry of the Yevgeni," Kyma corrected coolly, sending a silent 'thank you' to Gaia for gifting her with the language. "Son of my husband's brother, Zenon, thus he is my nephew."

"Truly?" Tom asked skeptically. "Yet I see the scar on his head."

"Indeed? Well then, you should realize that the sudden announcement of his birth name caused my nephew much discomfort. You should be ashamed of yourself! He just got here and already is feeling the stress of strangers knowing him when he hardly knows why!"

The bartender flinched back at the strange woman's rant, then did feel shame. The poor child probably did not know he was even famous before coming here and he just caused unneeded stress. "My apologies, ma'am, I did not intend to make him nervous," he said lowly with a polite bow of his head.

"Harry?" Kyma called softly, looking down at her nephew. He was watching the people in the pub, most looking like they were ready to spring to their feet and crowd him for his fame first chance they got. "Harry, sweetie?" She took him into her arms, hugging him tightly to her body. "It's alright. Auntie Kyma is right here with you."

"I know," he whispered.

Almost awkwardly, Hagrid guided them to the back of the pub. The spot was small, walls surrounding and encasing them. "Sorry about that in there," Hagrid started. "I didn't think about-"

"Do it again and you will see the fiercer side of a nymph," Kyma warned him with a glare that looked out of place on her. "Harry has gone his whole life without the fame, without being swarmed by strangers for something that was out of his control. Do you people ever think that maybe he would hate to be reminded that he survived what killed his birth parents?"

Hagrid tried to stammer out a reply, but Harry spoke up. "It is forgiven, Hagrid. But I would appreciate not being called out like that again."

"Right, right," the large man agreed, pulling a pink umbrella from his coat before tapping on the brick wall in front of them. The sequence complete, the wall started to shift and pull apart until an archway was revealed. Color and sound flooded their ears as their eyes took in the crowd of people scurrying around the alley, rushing from store to store. "Welcome to Diagon Alley!"

While the two looked in awe of the alley, the crowd made them nervous. Back home, there was no need for such crowding unless there was a match happening and everyone wanted to watch it. Here, everything is crammed together, not leaving enough room to breathe, let alone move. Yet the people around them did not seem hindered by their limited space.

Hagrid led them to the large white building labeled GRINGOTTS, informing Harry and Kyma that it was the bank and their first stop. Kyma almost squealed happily at the sight of the goblins once they entered. Greedy and fierce creatures they could be, but to her, they were as cute as a kitten. Not physically, but from their personalities. A kitten could still have an attitude bigger than themselves, much like the goblins.

Approaching one of the high desks that was occupied by no one but the goblin, Hagrid cleared his throat to gain the attention of the small creature measuring the precious gems. The goblin sneered disdainfully for his interruption.

"Mr. Potter would like to make a withdrawal," Hagrid told him calmly.

Still sneering, the goblin leaned forward to see Harry and Kyma. "And does Mr. Potter have his key?" he asked.

"No, sir, I regret to inform you that I do not have my key in my possession," Harry answered with a bow of his head, offering respect to the creature that could tear his throat out if angered enough. Though killing a client would be bad for the bank, he did not want to risk disrespecting the goblin. The teller seemed quite shocked by the polite act.

"Oh! Got it here somewhere," Hagrid stated, digging into his numerous pockets.

Kyma looked at him curiously. "How did you get a key to Harry's vault if Harry himself does not have one?" she questioned with her arms crossed.

"Dumbledore was holding onto it," Hagrid replied, pulling out a handful of dog biscuits and dropping them on the goblin's desk. The small creature's nose wrinkled as his lips pulled back. "For safe keeping."

With a hum, Kyma cleared the objects to one side of the desk so that she could speak to the goblin. "Excuse me, fearsome one," she spoke softly with a smile.

"Daughter of the Forest," the goblin acknowledged in return, already know exactly what she is. "I am Sharpclaw. How may I assist one of Nature's children?"

Still smiling, Kyma looked down to Harry. "Mr. Potter is my nephew," she explained before looking back at the teller. "His adopted father is brother to my mate. For reasons due to cultural differences, Zenon could not come here with Harry today. So on behalf of Harry and his guardian, I would like to see any transactions done concerning his vault. You see, if Harry was unaware of having a vault from his birth parents and was not in possession of his key, then any transactions were done without his knowledge. I would just like to look after my darling nephew and make sure his assets were not molested."

Sharpclaw looked to the human boy for confirmation of Kyma's claims. Harry nodded in response, eyes locked onto the goblin's. "Very well. It will be done," the goblin accepted with a nod as Hagrid finally located the key.

"Ah-ha! There's the little bugger!" the large man exclaimed, holding the key up for the goblin to take.

Looking over the key as Hagrid regained the previously removed objects, Sharpclaw nodded. Hagrid leaned forward a little to whisper to the goblin and hand him a letter. Nodding, the goblin returned the key. "I will call someone to take you to your vault, Mr. Potter. Griphook!" Another goblin approached them. Harry bowed to the newcomer, earning another shocked look. "Daughter of the Forest, I fear going down to the vaults will trouble you greatly as they are underground. If you will remain here with me, we will go over the transactions of Mr. Potter's vaults while he makes his withdrawals."

"Thank you!" Kyma chirped before rounding to Harry. "I'll take care of this."

"Do you know how to take care of this? I mean no offense, Aunt Kyma, but you don't leave the forest much," Harry pointed out in confusion.

With a wave of her hand, she smirked at him. "I have some experience with goblins," she explained.

Accepting that, Harry followed Hagrid and Griphook away from his aunt. Her smile dropped once they were out of sight before she looked to the teller. Goblins may tolerate her bubbly personality, but it was a business attitude they responded well to.

"As far as Harry is concerned, he had no vault. He had no knowledge of a vault. Any transactions made were done so without his authorization. Simply return any stolen money and/ or artifacts. With interest. We can worry about his inheritance when he is older and able to responsibly handle it."

"Understandable," Sharpclaw agreed with a toothy grin, scribbling away on a parchment. Once done, he handed it to the nymph, who scanned over it.

"Who do I go to concerning his Magical Guardian?" she asked anxiously, reading that it was Dumbledore who was named for such a position. "Does this mean that Harry can be taken from us?"

"If he has proven himself insignificant of his duties of Magical Guardian, we simply contact the Ministry and have the title revoked and given to a new Guardian."

"Does placing him in a abusive home and ignoring him, not even knowing he was missing for four years until his Hogwarts letter was written, count as insignificance?"

The goblin looked as though he smelled something particular awful before having it shoved under his nose for a bigger whiff. "It does," he strained. "If you have proof of such."

"I will ask the Prime Minister of Magic back in Greece to provide photographic evidence of Harry's condition upon his arrival into our lives. As well as my own memories and witnesses to Dumbledore's visit that revealed he did not know Harry's location for four years. Now, about his finances?"

"Dumbledore made these transactions supposedly for Mr. Potter's wellbeing," Sharpclaw explained. "Yet if they were made without Mr. Potter's knowledge or approval, they will be revoked. Despite the time since they were made."

"Who are these Weasleys?" she asked, squinting her eyes at the amount of money that they were given. From Harry's vault. By Dumbledore.

"A Light family that is very loyal to Dumbledore," the goblin answered.

"Harry does not know them," she pointed out. "Besides, from the amount they were given, it seems as though Dumbledore is prepaying them for something. That or is simply paying them their checks with my nephew's money instead of his own. I want all Harry's money back, interest included. And Dumbledore's position as Harry's Magical Guardian revoked as soon as possible."

"It will be done," he assured with a nod. "If you contact your Prime Minister of Magic, have him use the nearest Gringotts branch to show evidence of Mr. Potter's abuse. They will send it to us and we will handle the necessary paperwork before sending everything to the Ministry here. Be warned, though. Dumbledore has a lot of pull over our Ministry."

"But not over my nephew!" she nearly snarled, her wavy chocolate hair seeming to be lifted by an unfelt breeze.

 **Change Here**

"You looked awfully smug, Auntie," Harry pointed out as they entered the robe shop. Hagrid had left them for a quick 'pick me up' after the roller coaster ride in the bank. They both wondered if he would still go for the 'pick me up' if Kyma were not there, and thus leave Harry alone.

"Do I?" she asked in feigned shock. "I didn't realize!"

"Are you willing to share?" he pressed.

"When we get home and less people are likely to overhear and report back to their goat," she answered with a wink.

Nodding in acceptance, Harry left his aunt to her browsing of the store while he was fitted for school robes next to a blonde boy.

"Hello," the boy greeted, almost snobbishly like he expected to be recognized on sight. "Hogwarts, as well?"

"Yes," Harry replied, holding his arm out for the woman to take measurements.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," the blonde informed him with a drawling tone. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

"Rules are in place so we do not harm ourselves," Harry commented. "First years, especially those born from non-magical families, may not have experience with a broom. Perhaps they teach how to fly on one in first year, giving them enough time to practice before saying it is safe for them to get their own."

"You do not have your own broom, then?" the boy asked, almost condescendingly.

"I need no broom," he replied, not reacting to the tone of the other. "If we were meant to fly, which Icarus proved we are not meant to, we would have wings. Much like the harpies back home."

"Harpies?"

"Yes. They can be dangerous, but one of my best friends is a harpy. She's a little vain and kind of uppity at times, but she's very protective of her friends. Especially Lucian. He's too nice for his own good, so Nyssa watches out for him. Though he is younger than her, I doubt many would want to go after a centaur."

"You are friends with a harpy and a centaur?" The blonde looked genuinely amazed by the information. "Just where are you from, exactly?"

"I am told I was born here, but the past few years I grew up in Greece. It's a beautiful country filled with all kinds of life."

"What other kind of friends do you have?"

"There's Argyros, my very first friend," he recalled with a small smile. "He's a minotaur. That's his mother over there, my Aunt Kyma. She's a wood nymph, like another one of my friends, Silas. Then there's Drucilla, she's a gorgon. And Altair, whose a faun. Not to mention Maris, she's a naiad. A water nymph, and there is a difference between naiads and undines. Do not confuse them, they will be offended in some cases."

Wide steel-gray eyes and slack-jawed, the blonde could only stare at this boy in surprise. "That's…" He couldn't even find the right word for the amazement he felt. It was an odd blend of creatures, most of them dangerous and a few even considered Dark. Yet this strange boy spoke of them fondly, smile never leaving his lips as he spoke of his friends. For a moment, he felt quite empty. His own friends could hardly be called such. More like a social group that his parents took total control over concerning his interactions.

"What's your name?" the raven boy asked.

"Draco Malfoy," the blonde replied, holding his head high.

"Pleased to meet you, Draco. My name is Harry Potter of the Yevgeni Herd."

Draco's brain came to a screeching halt. This boy with strange friends is Harry Potter?! He looked nothing like Draco was expecting him to be.

"Pleasure," Draco offered, earning a smile and nod.

"Aw, you're already making friends!" a woman cooed, running her fingers through Harry's black locks. "Hello there!"

"Hello, ma'am," Draco returned, blinking for a moment. When did she get there?

"The name is Kyma," she supplied. "I'm Harry's Auntie. Nice to meet you, Draco Malfoy!"

Harry rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "My aunt can be a little hyper," he explained with a smile. "You get used to her. To be honest, when I first met Aunt Kyma, I was debating whether or not she was crazy. Turns out, most wood nymphs are like this."

"You're a wood nymph?" Draco asked in surprise.

"Born and raised," she giggled with a wink. "Wise word of advise from this 'hyper' nymph." She tugged on Harry's small ponytail jokingly. "You are your own person. Live your own life and be friends with whom you choose. Your parents may or may not approve, but if they truly love you, they will step back and let you make your own choices. Because those choices are what can lead to your happiness and teach you from your mistakes."

"The Mother tell you to relay that?" Harry asked over his shoulder.

"Everyone has their destiny and their own paths to take," she told him softly. "If the Mother can help lead you, she will try. Just wait. One day, you will properly hear her."

Unsure what they were talking about, Draco asked a question about what Harry said earlier. "You said that your minotaur friend is the child of your Aunt," he pointed out. "If she is a wood nymph, why is he a minotaur?"

"I asked the same thing before," Harry laughed lightly, recalling the silver minotaur's answer.

"It's because his father is a minotaur," she supplied.

Draco decided that asking would only lead to a headache and more confusion. So he wisely chose to not ask.

 **Change Here**

The Talk Doll was tested and successful when Harry contacted Argyros before getting his wand. Once everything was bought and packed into his trunk (Kyma's idea), Harry was ready to return home with his Aunt. Then Hagrid pointed out that he was still missing a pet.

"There's plenty to choose from back home," Kyma told him. "It's been hours. Zenon worries about Harry when he's gone for so long. Even if someone he knows and trusts is with him. By the gods, I can only imagine how he'll be during the school years."

"Do you think I can convince one of the eagle owls to be my pet?" Harry asked, looking up at his aunt. "There's a nest near home with hatchlings just learning to fly."

"If you can convince their mother," Kyma giggled with a nod. "I don't think you'll have any trouble with her, though. She likes you, judging from how she tries to preen you like you were her own."

"Problem solved, then!" the raven exclaimed happily. "Can we just go home now, Hagrid? I would like to spend some of my birthday with my family."

Sighing gently, Hagrid nodded. "Alright. Just take the rope again and we'll be off."

"Actually, I have a better idea." Kyma stopped him from pulling the rope from his pocket. "Great Mother, I ask thee for help. This land is of hard stones. Please take us back to the forest where we dwell, return us to our home and loved ones."

The wind picked up around the pair, hair lifting in the air. Leaves blended into the whirlwind surrounding them.

"Thanks for the trip, Hagrid!" Harry waved before the wind hid them from view. With a burst, the wind and leaves scattered, revealing that the pair disappeared.

Back in the herd, a twister of leaves appeared near the pit before the leaves slowed and drifted to the ground. Kyma and Harry stood in the middle, a trunk in Harry's hand. They bowed their heads and offered thanks to the Mother for the gentle travel back home.

"Hey, Dad!" Harry greeted, waving his arm as his father approached.

"Enjoy the trip?" Zenon asked, taking the trunk before petting back Harry's bangs. "Anything happen?"

"Plenty!" Kyma chirped. "For example, Hagrid announced Harry's presence in a pub full of people that have heard of him. Poor thing nearly had a panic attack. And I need to talk to you about something, Zenon."

With a nod, Zenon looked down at Harry. "Go find Argyros and calm him down. He's been anxious, especially after your Talk Doll conversation."

"Alright!" Harry chuckled, running past his uncle and towards the hut.

Atlas watched Harry run by with a fond smile before shaking his head. "My love, I am so glad to see you home safe and sound, and most importantly, in one piece," he greeted his mate, taking her into his arms and spinning her around.

She laughed at his attention before swatting his arms. "Let me down, silly," she giggled. "I have to tell your brother something."

"Mind if I listen in?" he playfully asked, nuzzling her neck.

"Not at all," she replied, placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Still here, you two," Zenon sighed heavily with a roll of his eyes. How was it they did not have more children than Argyros?

"Sorry," the nymph giggled, cuddling into Atlas's chest. "But we went to the bank and found out a few things. Or I did while Harry was getting his money. As it turns out, Dumbledore is Harry's Magical Guardian. If we can get Felix to take the pictures he took of Harry's condition to the bank, as well as a few memories, the goblins there can send it to the London branch and have the title revoked and passed to another more suitable candidate.

"And I already have the goblins word that they will bring proof of stealing from Harry's vaults. Not just money, but priceless artifacts as well. But there is no proof that they were being sent out to certain people as bribery, possibly to spy on Harry. Everything will be recalled, though. Harry does not know any of this, but only because I didn't want to overwhelm him with it when he already has so much to worry about as is."

Zenon nodded, accepting the reason. He would hide it from Harry as well, wanting to wait until the child calms down or has had enough time to take everything in that he wouldn't be thrown into a shock because of one more thing.

"Zenon, I fear what this Headmaster may try once Harry is in his reach…and out of ours."

The large minotaur only turned to stare at his son, who managed to drag Argyros out of his home. "Harry may be out of our reach, but not out of the reach of Olympus," he stated. "And definitely not out of the Mother's grasp. All we can do is hope that Aphrodite will watch over him in his trials. And that the Mother will protect him from darkness."

"The sooner he has less power and influence over my nephew, the better," Atlas snorted. "I'll send a message to Felix so we can get that guardianship revoked as soon as possible." He looked over at his son and nephew before chuckling softly. "Best make sure Argyros does not find out about it. He is very protective of Harry."

"I look forward to his reaction, actually," Zenon admitted with a small laugh. "Send the message as soon as you can, brother."

With a nod to his brother and a kiss to the crown of his nymph's head, Atlas left the two and walked back to his home. Kyma sighed gently, watching her son and Harry run around in the open space. "Zenon," she spoke softly. "I worry for the boys."

"What do you mean?" Zenon asked, looking down at his brother's mate.

"I worry for Harry because he is about to enter a world that believes they know him, will overwhelm him before he is properly prepared, and will have to face many trials," she started before turning her gaze to the minotaur. "And I worry for my son. Should anything happen to Harry, Argyros will never recover."

"I know," Zenon sighed heavily, his shoulders shrugging with the heavy exhale. "So we offer what help we can."

 **Change Here**

Harry laughed as he evaded Argyros once again, turning to jog backwards. "Is that really all you have?" he teased the silver minotaur.

"Oh, just you wait!" Argyros called back, charging to Harry again.

Still laughing, Harry sidestepped the charge, though knew if Argyros was going to get him, he would slow down enough to not cause any harm. As he passed the laughing raven, his arm swung out and looped around Harry's waist before he could go far.

"Got you!" Argyros cheered triumphantly. "You are getting a bit harder to catch, though."

"Good," Harry chuckled, his feet dangling from the ground as the taller male behind him held on. "I'm gonna miss this, Argyros. A lot."

The silver preteen almost lowed in distress, hating the thought of Harry leaving, especially for months at a time. He knew that one day, Harry would have to go to a wizarding school. It was expected, after all. But at least going to one closer to home meant he would be able to visit more often. Hopefully. "I'll miss you," he confessed, looking down at the raven he held.

With a small smile, Harry patted Argyros's arm. "We still have a while," he pointed out. "Term doesn't start until September first. We have all of August to go."

"Good!" Argyros snorted. "For now, though…" He trailed off, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. Then, still holding Harry, he spun around.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!"

Their friends stood there, a small pile of presents in front of them. Nyssa was on her usual perch on Lucian's back. Altair as leaning against a nearby tree, Drucilla stretched out behind his tree and Lucian next to her. Silas and Maris stood side by side to Altair's left, leaving the faun in the center of the small crowd.

Harry's grin brightened at the sight. He enjoyed the presents, of course, but the true present was that his friends were able to join him on his birthday. Even if they showed up empty handed, so long as they were there, he was happy.

"Happy Birthday," Argyros repeated, putting Harry down.

"Thanks, guys," the young human replied, smile never faltering.

 **Here the Chapter Ends**

 **I think this chapter has gone on long enough. About 10 pages. I have not anticipated my chapters being as long as they are. Don't expect it every time. I cannot promise long chapters each update.**

 **Anyway, hope you all enjoyed the chapter!**

Names and Meanings:

Silvanos – forest dweller

…Was he seriously my only new name mentioned this chapter? Am I finally slowing down on my character list?

Quite possibly.


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